Saving Prefect Granger
by Harmonic Friction
Summary: Draco decides it's high time Hermione was saved from boredom. PostHogwarts, zany pairings [Harry and WHO?], nutty humour, and insane Lucius. Newest chapter introduces an entire new brand of fanfiction Draco: The Ginny!Draco. And I DON'T mean GinnyxDraco.
1. I Can't Hear You

**Disclaimer: **I own Gavin, Zoe, Lone, and any other random characters that do not seem familiar. The rest belong to Rowling.

**Warning: **Mature. Chock full o' lingerie humor, sexual fantasies belonging to Draco Malfoy, raunchy jokes made by Draco Malfoy, slight language, and Draco Malfoy acting overtly sexual.

**Introduction: **When I began this story in 2003, I thought of it as a crazy idea that would be pretty simple to work out, and that people might not even understand, being that the humor is a little tainted and the whole story revolves around Malfoy. Malfoy and his psychotic family, tasteless jokes, and hobby of making up songs about himself. It was a vision I had of the character- totally warped and caught up in himself, needing someone, _something, _to bring him down to earth.

And now, in** 2006**, I am still putting along. The story's growing with me, and amazingly, people are _reading! _They _get it! _So, I want to thank every person who's left a review, or who's read at all. **_Saving Prefect Granger _**is now up for three awards at , and I have my readers to thank!

So sit back, and please enjoy reading as Draco Malfoy makes a mess of almost everything known to wizard, makes Hermione Granger blush with fury, endures his Mum and dear Dad… and still has a few tricks up his sleeve…

Thank you,

Fricticious Harmonious

**  
SAVING _PREFECT_ GRANGER**

**Chapter One**

**8:00 AM. MALFOY MANOR. THIRD FLOOR. BEDROOM. ASLEEP**.

_"Whoaaaa, whoa, baby, whoaaa. It's like magic, when I look at you. It's like magic, making my dreams come true.."  
_  
**BANG! SMACK! BANG**! "**DDDDDDDRRRAACCOOO**!"

_"I want to curse the warlock who broke your beating heart-" _

BANG! CRASH!

_"-tear him apaaaaart-"  
_  
I growled and buried my face under my pillow. A daft band called Sorcery Sorority had come out with a new single, and it was absolutely driving me barmey! I used to be into their music... **WHEN I WAS FIFTEEN!** Now, they've made a comeback, and personally,** I** feel like tearing the _lead singer_ apart- and tossing him out to die amongst dragons.**BANG!** My bedroom door was crashing into the door jam like mad.

Between that and the outdated punk music, my head was becoming numb. Underneath my pillow, I tried to debate which was worse. I'm so stupid when I'm tired.

_"I want you, witch. I want you! I won't control you, I will console you-"  
_

Too.. Many... Lovey... Lyrics... Too... Early**... GGGGAAAHHH!**

**"DAMN IT, SHUT UP,"** I bellowed, and, acting as if I was doing something really rebellious, I shut off my alarm. _Oh yes. Malfoy's the man.  
_  
Then a voice came from behind the now silent door. "_Draconius Lucifer Malfoy_, _what in the name of Routebaga Cartright _did you just say to me?"

Whoops. Apparently, it was _Father_ who was harassing my door with his cane."I wasn't talking to you, Father! I was speaking to the radio. Have you heard that new song _'I Want You, Witch'_?" I questioned quickly, not wanting to make Daddy Dearest annoyed in the early hours  
of the morning.

I could hear his eyes roll. "Completely understood, Draco. Now, open this door."

I groaned very quietly, and stretched, getting out of my nice, soft, bed with my black velvet pillows and my black canopy and my-

Never mind, I was asleep again.

**"DRACO! NOW!"**

"Fine, fine," I yawned.

Things haven't changed much since I turned eighteen and left Hogwarts forever. My father got out of Azkaban for being mental (I'll explain later), and is still controlling my life. I like that man, but MY GOD! At least when he was in Azkaban, he couldn't nag at me or make fun of me. I remember how sad I was when he got taken into jail. I was fifteen. Wow. I couldn't even guess how important privacy was back then.

I threw my comfy black comforter off of me, and grabbed my wand from my chest of drawers. I went up to the door, and mumbled six counter- hexes. The door swung open, revealing (Ta- da!), Lucius Malfoy, my model father.

Now, when I say 'model', please do not get the idea that I am referring to him as a outstanding citizen. What I mean is, he is always groomed, perfumed, and dressed to kill, though not _literally_ any more.  
_"Blast it,_ Draco! How many curses does a door need? Couldn't you just _latch it_?" he spat out, being careful not to let his head move, as I could see his platinum tresses were freshly straightened.

"_Blast it, Lucius_! I'm not seven years old. I'm nearly triple that age, actually, and I need my P-R-I-V-A-C-Y, all right?" I told him, trying to understand that he is old, and probably has no memory of his childhood whatsoever. He'd just had his birthday last month, November 9th, and turned a whopping forty- four! Scary thought.

"Forgive me. I forget how old you are," he sighed, trying to look misty- eyed, but it wasn't working. "Anyway," he continued tartly," please be showered and dressed by nine, that is, if you still wish to go to Diagon Alley while I attend my meeting."

I shrugged, shoving a hand through my tousled hair. "Certainly. I'll inquire about condominiums."

"No," he declared. "What did _I_ say?"

I rolled my eyes, a snicker escaping my lips. "I don't play that game any more. I'm not a child." I pushed past him.

**_"Draco Malfoy_**, what did _I_ say?" he snarled, grabbing my shoulder.  
I gave in, painfully. " You said that _'Malfoys are too dignified live in a one room dump with a small kitchen'_, but Father! I need **my own** place! I need privacy! I'll be closer to Saint Mungo's, so I can complete my internship!"

_"Internship_? You've only just got into surgeon school. You want an internship? Wait five years ," he scoffed. "And in the mean time, think about the disgusting waifs who get put up in those rat- bitten scum houses! I do not want any child of mine living like that!"

"Maybe I'm _adopted_," I put in grimly.

He looked annoyed. "You weren't. Take my word for it."

(Fair enough.)

"I deserve a flat," I asserted loudly.

"Oh, you _do_, do you?" he questioned, with a little smirk.

"Yes, SIR, I do," I replied rudely. He hates when I refer to him as 'Sir'. He says it makes him feel old. _I've got news for you, chap..._

His eyes flashed. "And tell me, _Mr. Malfoy_, who has the money for this so called _'deserved'_ flat?"

Oh, bother.

"Look, won't you let me borrow just enough to-"

"No."

"You bought me my books for-"

"_That _is education. _This _is pleasure. Give it up, Draco, before I take back the money for your college ," he snarled.

Not wanting to admit defeat, I stalked past him toward the bathroom. I heard him chortling at me evilly, and despite myself, I grinned. Same old Father. Still as cruel as he was eighteen years ago.

I entered my bathroom, pulling off my silk pajamas and gazing into the mirror.

"_Beautiful Draco,"_ I sang to myself. "_Everyone loves you. La la la."_

I love making up songs about myself. I'm so **perfect**.


	2. Crazy Lucius

**Note: **Minor changes to the chapter have been made due to the release of _Half-Blood Prince. _Spoilers.

**Chapter Two**

**8:47 AM. MALFOY MANOR. FIRST FLOOR. DINING ROOM. WASHED. CLOTHED. BREAKFASTING.  
**

Despite the lovely song I created about my body, I hummed _"I Want You, Witch"_ as I finished my peanut butter toast . Then, I stabbed my hand with the butter knife when I realised I was letting that dastardly song take over my mind- **NEVER**!"Be careful, dear," Narcissa Alexandria Black Malfoy warned. She is my mother, a gorgeous woman of forty-one, who, despite the title, is as un-motherly as one could ever imagine. Don't get me wrong, she never fails to supply me with Galleons, but the years living with her have become somewhat unsatisfying.

As I enjoy some bacon, allow me to explain: Though beautiful, Mother is not very exciting, nor kind. When Father ever makes trouble, she just smiles her brightly- whitey, flashy, seductive smile and thinks of all the money she'll be missing if she divorces him. That seems to pull her through the hard stuff.

On the contrary: When Father was taken to Azkaban Prison, I thought she would jump for joy, but for once, she surprised me. Our days were filled with grief, woe, and depressed shopping sprees. Mother used to sigh sadly every time she saw me, because she said I was beginning to look just like Father. She took most meals in her bedroom- oops- THEIR bedroom. I began to figure out what it was exactly Mother was missing about Lucius Malfoy, or should I say what **PART** it was exactly?

Yes, she was sex- deprived. Her pillow was wet every night, but the sheets were sadly dry and un-rumpled. I slept better than I had in all my days.

**_But this isn't about me, is it?_**

My mother was depressed. That made me **angry**!

I couldn't even understand the reasons why he had to go to jail. I mean, so what if he supported Voldemort? So what if he threatened kids my age and younger? So what if he creeped the living daylights out of Harry Potter? For being such a hero, that kid was sure easy to freak out!

I was left to cope in my room for most of that summer before sixth year. I was sixteen years old: lost, abandoned, horny, and fatherless. We visited Father twice every month. He was not doing so well. Azkaban was not catering to his needs. I can't imagine why.

He needs are extremely simple:

**1.** He has to have a wake up call at approximately six o'clock , or else he will sleep until noon.

**2.** He must be near a sink at all times so he can continuously rid his hands of any germs that may have gathered.

**3. **He needs to have a shower every morning. His water will be boiling hot with a spritz of cold at the end.

**4.** He needs to have breakfast at eight thirty, lunch at noon, afternoon tea with scones (blackberry jam only, please), and dinner at six thirty.

**5.** If the cut of steak, roast, kidney, or what ever kind of meat you serve is not positively leaking out blood when a fork is pressed into its flesh, he won't touch it.

**6.** He has to have extended bathroom preparation time, This may be the most important need. It takes him an hour to do his hair, a half an hour for a shower or bath, and thirty minutes to apply various moisturizers, face creams, nail softeners.. etc. etc. (Yes, a bit suspicious to me, but I didn't want to question my father at such a stressful time.)

There are many more needs, but I really must stop. To make a long story short, Father was being treated like any other high security criminal- and he didn't like it.You see, my father was the youngest child in his family, which consisted of a father, mother, and an older brother named Hagawthe.

Father was very spoiled, outspoken, and thought he was better than everyone else at Hogwarts because he was of a pure background. (So glad I didn't have know him- he sounds like he was just _awful!_)

Anyway, he used to do **'bad things'**, and get away with them all of the time because he is a liar. A well- trained liar feeding on stupid, forgiving adults and choice veal cutlets. Naturally, he grew up to think it was right to lie to protect one's self, and get good things one wanted, and pretend one was someone one was really not.

He could have been cured long ago if his parents had recognized the signs. Sure, they caught him doing **'bad things' **sometimes, but then, he would make himself sick and they would feel bad. The degree of badness they felt depended on the suspected crime, and the stain on the carpet.

He is a troubled, troubled man.

Just because he was a Death Eater does not mean he is evil.

He makes bad decisions. My father was _fourteen_ years old when he first heard about Lord Voldemort's ideas. The ideas weren't so** bad** then. Father bought into Tom Riddle's plan. It was never his fault. He is troubled. Do you understand?

I am telling you this before hand so that you will not make cruel judgments based on what I am about to reveal.

During his fifth month in Azkaban, the guards began to witness peculiar behaviors from my father. He was having strange nightmares in which he would wake up shouting and screaming. They ignored him, which is unfair to me, because months before that, the _'beautiful dreamer' _called Harry was worshipped because he thought he was becoming a snake and biting people's faces off. Real cute.

Then, Father began have odd fits in which he would slam his cell mate against the bars.. Furthermore, he was getting sick. It was all very strange. The dementors could not ignore this. They wanted to suck the soul out of my father right in the beginning, but Fudge (what a grand man!) declared that Father was delusional and needed to be tested.

I remember clearly a visiting day that took place about a week after Father began having these nightmares and fits. Mother and I dressed up and looked very nice, rich, and posh as usual, and went to the prison. We were never allowed in Father's cell, which was fine by me, and we conversed with Lucius through a misty haze of magic spells that disallowed him to break through, unless he wished to be dead in ten seconds.

_"Darling_," I can recall Mother saying. "Darling, how are you feeling? Mr. Fudge says there are certain _problems!"_

Lucius, in a terrible prison uniform, sniffed, and said," To say there are problems is factual yet a terrible understatement. I am so unhappy, Narry, and I've been having convulsions and visions."

Mother gasped. _"What are the visions?"_

Father lowered his voice so that everyone around would want to hear." He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named is going to kill, and if I am not released, I fear that a large number of people are going to die."

"Lucy, don't strain yourself," Mother squealed. "If you continue to think about the welfare of others, your fits will become worse! I'm certain that you will be let out when the time is right, even if **'he must bake the cookies without the sugar'**."

Ah, yes. My parents' way of communicating with code words that were worked out before Father was hauled of to jail. 'He must bake the cookies without the sugar' was a phrase meaning 'He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named must fight the unpure without the help of Death Eaters'.

My father nodded sadly, and turned to me. "How are you doing, son? I hope having an estranged father in jail isn't ruining your social life."

"I'm fine," replied the fifteen- year old me in what he hoped was a pathetic, sad, Dad- guiltying voice. "Can I borrow one hundred Galleons?"

He seemed kind of taken aback. "Well, certainly, I suppose." Done with me, he turned to my mother. "Narcissa, tell me the truth: do I look hideous?"

"Of course not, my dear. The dark circles underneath your eyes only make it appear as though you have applied tons of very- erm- black makeup. But you are still as handsome as before," she gushed. I swear! When she wants something, she can really play up to it!

"And you, as dazzling," he remarked, in what I found to be a woeful kind of voice. But she didn't seem to think so.

"Oh, Lucy, I _want_ you!" she declared loudly.

I stared at my shoes in embarrassment, hoping no one from school was being held prisoner here.

Needless to say, shortly after, we were informed that visiting time was up.

Father's hysterical fits grew worse, he began to get sick more frequently, and his cell mate was suffering from broken ribs. Saint Mungo's began taking him out and performing medical tests on him. What they found out was very peculiar:

He was not ill at all. In fact, his outbreak of vomiting was proved to be caused by force, not sickness.

The doctors put a spell on him during the nights called 'reverieus' so that they could see these hideous dreams he was going crazy about. The dreams that were recorded included:

**a.** Harry Potter dying, my father laughing, and Voldemort taking over the world.

**b.** A very graphic orgy between the Death Eaters and choice students from Hogwarts.

**c. **My father as a child copying his brother's report about Salazaar Slytherin for History of Magic, and getting away with it.

The doctors were worried, especially when they realized that father awoke before he started screaming and carrying on. He had been faking. But the doctors found the dreams, especially exhibit C, quite unnerving. They decided that Lucius Malfoy required special help, counseling, and closed quarters.

So, by acting crazy, my father hoped he would get out of prison. The plan back fired, because the doctors discovered he actually **WAS** crazy. They diagnosed him as 'dangerous', a 'liar', and someone who 'had no idea he was doing anything wrong'.

These happenings caused me to dropped quite a few places down the social ladder. People, such as Ronald Weasley, began to make fun of me for having an insane father. It hurt my feelings. Cut me deep. Real deep.

Even my cousins began referring to Father as "_Cra-aaazy Uncle Lucius_", and "_Mudblood-Maming-Madman_". So much for family!

This is when I shorten the story, because none of the later events really have anything important to do with anyone, except where I was involved:

Voldemort, forced to bake cookies with no sugar, tried to come back to full power once more. I was pressured to help him, as were the children of all the Death Eaters. I decided against it, though, because really, who needs a disgusting old bugger ruling the world? (Of course, I told my parents that I would help Voldemort at all costs, and they were ever so proud.)

Then, _somehow_, everyone was _really_ mean. They gave me a tattoo, which was wicked cool, but then they gave me all these orders and they made me do some evil stuff, and I was appointed to kill Dumbledore… Except _something _happened and I wasn't able to, so Professor Snape did, and we ran like convicts and slept in ditches and made dinner by firelight and played "I Spy" and talked about really weird things and bored the hell out of each other. I found that Snape wasn't evil. It disappointed me, I mean he seemed so _evil_. And he went back and joined the good side and had some whackos protect me. And then, Harry Potter, the sweet, little hero boy, managed to kill him, finally, with the help of the Ministry of Magic and Snape (except people never really believed Snape and Harry yelled at him quite a lot). But low and behold, Potter was a hero. And Dumbledore was _really _alive. And all of these other really useless, sappy details.

The world rejoiced.

**I was once again forgotten.**


	3. Disgusting!

**Chapter Three**

**9:25. MALFOY MANOR. DINING ROOM. OFF IN SPACE. PROBABLY DROOLING. FATHER ANGERED.**

**Back to the "Real World."**

**"DRACO? WHY ARE YOU IGNORING ME?"**

I looked up in alarm. "_Sorry_, Father. I was _thinking_."

Lucius glared at me from the end of the table, and tossed down his newspaper. **SWISH!** "If you do not get a move on, I will be late for my meeting, and_ I_ will get blamed for it! They blame me for everything these days. If I try to tell them it was because my son was off in _lala_ land, they will tell me I am **lying**, and it is my **faul**t, and **I should accept it**!"

Just to fill you in, Father is out of the hospital (obviously). He was housed until Voldemort's death, and now, he still has to attend meetings, such as _Death Eaters Anonymous_ and _It's My Life_. On the morning upon which the insanity began, he was expected at _It's My Life_, which is held at a therapeutical center downtown Knock Turn. It's for wizards and witches who have trouble accepting that they are responsible for their actions.

"I'm ready, Father." I stood up. "I'll go to Diagon Alley while you attend. I need to pick up another book, and I'd like to have a look at the winter fashions in Bloodied and Sheared."

"Oh, sweetheart!" Mother exclaimed, jumping up from her place across the table. "I have a list. I was going to have one of the House Elves pick these items up, but now that you are going, I don't see the point." She left to find her list.

I was offended. "Is that what she thinks of me? _A servant boy_? An _Elven Wonder_?"

Father smirked. "Make yourself useful, Draco, and perhaps you will be hired to work in our kitchen."

"Very funny," I snapped. "Do the people at Saint Mungo's encourage you to make fun of me, or shall I tell them your behavior when I go into school next week?"

That shut him up. It's very _good_, having doctors against your father. If he doesn't get you what you want, you can tell them that he is having disturbing dreams about children again, and they'll lock him away.

Mother came back into the dining room, her silver robe glittering as she handed over a piece of parchment. I read it.

"Oh, no," I declared. "I will **never**, in a **million years**, go into this store **without a woman**, let alone purchase anything. Especially things like… _this. Disgusting!"_

She had given me a list of sexy underwear she wanted at the woman's lingerie shop called The Sorceresses' Secret. Now, I don't mind checking out the moving photographs of half naked Veela on the walls, or looking in interest at pretty, lacy thongs, but going in there with no female companion, and purchasing bras and panties? That would totally make Draco Malfoy seem a bit...

…Well…

_**Queer-ish.**_

She rolled her eyes. "Honey, be mature! Everyone will know you are shopping for your mother."

As I continued to argue, Father grabbed the list and surveyed it.

He looked extremely happy. "Oh, Narcissa… Just as I requested."

She giggled.

I felt my peanut butter toast again. "I cannot-"

"**Draco**, we have to leave. You listen to your mother, and buy what she's requested," Father spat out, now most definitely on her side for reasons I didn't want to think about.

_"I'm not trying to disobey her!"_ I shouted. _"But think about how homo it will look if I go into that store alone and buy this strappy leather thing you wanted, Mother!" _

Father sniffed loudly, looking as though he disapproved. I honestly don't know what he was getting so cocky about, since I have clear childhood memory of seeing him wearing one of Mother's evening gowns. I had to promise I'd never tell, but now I was seriously considering informing his psychiatrist that he has yet another problem.

"Do not use _homo,_ Draco. It's so _regular._"

He never ceases to amaze me.

She smiled serenely. "No one you know will be there now, Draco, take my word for it. Besides, everyone knows you aren't- _uhm_- **that **way, and if they do, they shouldn't, because you've been dating Pansy for the past year."

Oh, yes. Pansy. Finally good for something.

I pretended to look relieved, even though I was still debating if I should risk losing my masculinity in the eyes of others.

"That reminds me! I have a date with Pansy tonight, seven o'clock at The Cult in London. So, after Father's done with his meeting, I'll meet him at the Ministry, take him back here, and then,  
get ready." Dates are good for abandoning parents.

Mother grinned. "_Wonderful!_ I adore that Pansy. She is so _refined_."

I smiled, trying to figure out exactly what Mother meant by that. I suppose you can call Pansy's taste for expensive wines _'refined'_, but lately I had been trying to convince her that a glass of ice water with dinner would be so much more pleasing.

Father nodded, being rarely agreeable. I really did not know his opinion of Pansy, though he did spend an awful lot of time gazing at her chest the last time she was over. I don't blame him, especially when she put on her coat and there came the distinct sound of tissue paper wrinkling.

"Yes," I said slowly. "Ever so refined..."

_**That's it, Draco. Agree with them. Agree with them, and you'll all get along. **_

"Let us leave immediately, or else they'll be looking for me, "Father declared, his eyes shifting back and forth.

I snickered, thinking it was his idea of a joke.

He gave me a look that clearly stated _'I will burn your soul'_.

**"Wipe that grin off your face,"** he snarled.

_Aye, aye, sir._

_Agree, Draco… You must agreeeee… _


	4. Help Me, Please!

**Note: **It must be addressed. I have long since wondered why Malfoy rips a page out of a book in Flourish and Blots in the second film. _Why_? my mind pressed. _Why?_

So I created why.

**Chapter Four**

**10:39. DIAGON ALLEY. BROWSING FLOURISH AND BLOTS.  
**

Hmmm. There are some highly interesting books in the world. I learn new things every three or four days. Today I learned that literature can be fun...

All right, all right. I was supposed to be looking for books on magical surgery and surgeons, since it is my career of choice. I want to be a doctor who cures people with severe curses placed upon them, at Saint Mungo's.

But honestly, I was getting a bit tired of paragraphs on famous Herbalists and photographs of people with great horns growing out of their bums. So, after scanning some of the educational works, my brilliant grey eyes read a sign on the wall above a staircase labeled **MATURE**. I knew that section.

_Oh, how I know that section._When Father dragged me around on errands, sometimes I'd wait in the bookstore, and while no one was looking, I'd edge up the steps very slowly, and take a look around. Of course, being an immature,  
short, twelve year old, I lacked the maturity and knowledge to actually understand the pictures and explicit text.Once though, I did find a very sexy picture of two lesbian witches "doing it" on the floor. I understood that perfectly, and ripped it straight out of the book. It still resides under my pillow. Truly beautiful.

But, that was one of the rare occasions in which I did not draw much attention to myself. Usually, I'd simply run out of the shop, giggling madly. (_Crabbe and Goyle were **worse**!)_

So, finally eighteen, courageous, and fully informed, I headed for the Mature section once again, sweat forming on the back of my neck as I edged carefully up the staircase.

I had found the **MATURE **section.

And maturity was all around.

It was bliss, I tell you. Could this be what Muggles are referring to when they say 'heaven'? It's not quite in the sky, but it's pretty close.

There was every kind of naughty book imaginable. I sprung for the magazines. Pulling out the latest edition of _Play Veela_, I mumbled a silent prayer of thanks to whoever made pornography possible.

Ohhhh, baby, it was delicious, full of silver-haired beauties and a fold out of gorgeous Evette Masoule, one of _Play Veela's_ regulars. It was all I could do to stop myself from getting too excited in public. I decided I'd buy the mag, and get happy in the "privacy" of my own bedroom. I set it down on the book shelf to browse some more.

In interest, I opened up a copy of the latest _XWARLOCKX_, known as a "witch's guide for magical guys."

**Lord!** Do women really like blokes with gigantic muscles and tan, sweaty skin? If that were true,

the world would rule me out all together. Yeah, right. Like that would happen.

Flipping the page, I sighed in relief. Finally, there was a man who looked at least a _bit _pale. The headline of the article read _"Does Size Really Matter, Really?" _I personally think that it does, but that may be bias, because I have **A LOT** to offer.

Then, I turned to the supplement picture, and my mouth dropped open. Where on earth did this chap pick up that enormous- dear **VOLDEMORT!** I tried to measure how big it was by looking, and sort of sizing it up.

_Wow._

Feeling just a teeny- weenie bit self conscious (don't tell anyone), I strolled very casually out of the Mature section. Just to make myself seem well- rounded, I quickly selected a book about medical practices. I wouldn't mind if the word got out that famous Draco Malfoy of the wealthy Malfoy family was buying porno mags, but Father would flip and think everyone was judging him.

_Cr-aaazy Lucius... _

Oh Lord. It's catching.

When I stepped up to the counter to pay, the wizard at the cash register rang my purchases up and grinned at me. He was a slight bloke, with chin-length dark hair that was perfectly straight and shiny.

I grinned back, glad to be sharing a private manly moment. Certainly he knew the importance of _Play Veela.  
_

"So, you single?" he questioned softly, bagging my books.

I smirked, shrugging. "I honestly don't know. She's all right, but not like anything in the _magazine_, you know."

"Confused?" he questioned, taking my Galleons, and counting up my change.

That question… _confused_… me. "I don't understand your meaning," I said slowly, taking my change and looking at him strangely.

He flashed a smile," You are, aren't you? Well, if you ever need anyone to talk to about it, I'm sure I could help. Here's my mailing address. Owl me." He put a slip of paper into my bag along with my receipt. "Have a great day."

I nodded, and put my change in the tip jar. Maybe this poor guy could get some therapy.

The little bell jangled as I walked out of the store. Wondering if this guy really gave me an address, or some threatening- stalker message, I looked inside my bag.

Oh, damn it.

I had bought the wrong magazine.

Inside my bag was XWARLOCKSX! I must have been so wrapped up in seeing what girls like that I walked down with it and left my precious Veela all alone on the book shelf.

Wait a sec.

**THAT WANKER WAS FLIRTING WITH ME!  
**

**AHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!**

I'm not a homo! I'm not! **I'M NOT!**

Should I go inside and grab my Evette?

No, then I'll have to be that homo's eye candy again.

I'll explain it to him though! Explain the whole thing was a mix up- but that would be terribly pathetic.

Break some fairy's heart, and make him weep in front of everyone. And he really had no choice, I mean, I'm so gorgeous and interesting.

But he's gay! And I am too, because I'll be shopping in a woman's underwear store any minute now!

**NO! I'M AS STRAIGHT AS A BROOM STICK AND I WANT MY SLUTTY VEELA MAG!  
**

To be completely honest, I was much too afraid to go back into that store, but I did dispose of the fagmag.

There was no way I would be caught with a woman's magazine in a woman's underwear store. Not when there would be sexy chicks to get with.

I washed my hands at a drinking fountain.

Some little kids stared at me.


	5. Lingerie

**Chapter Five**

**10:58- DIAGON ALLEY. OPENING THE DOOR OF THE UNDERWEAR SHOP.**

I stepped inside, and the sound of jingling charms played sweetly.

"Good day," greeted the woman at the counter.

"Hello." I said shortly, trying not to be the center of attention, but all ready I was attracting stares.

I pulled out The List, and read over it once more. I cringed simply at the sight of the letters on the parchment. The list read:

_1. Three- piece thong package. Black. Lace. _

_2. Black leather 'Erotic Fantasy' bra, with straps_

_3. Sheer pantyhose_

_4. Edible undies- Chocolate_

I shook my head sadly. My poor parents, trying to be so sexy. The undies were probably what Father was so worked up about. He likes sweets an awful lot.

I strolled about the store, although I had no idea in the least where any of this stuff was. I scanned the walls. As I had recalled, the huge Veela portraits were a nice touch.

The store smelled heavily of perfume, and the walls were pink. I was beginning to feel closed in, like some sort of animal kept for amusement.

"May I help you, sir?"

**"AAH!"** I burst out, whipping around.

A girl about twenty was staring at me as though I were insane.

"May I help you?" she repeated.

I felt sweat at the back of my neck. "_Uh- no-_ **yes..** _Maybe._ **Look,** **I can't find anything in this place!** **_It's very hard when you're looking for specific things!"_** I snapped. The experience was turning me wild.

She giggled, thinking I'd made a joke. "Let me see your list. I can help you."

Wondering whether or not I should hand it over, I finally gave in. If it gets out that my mother is a skank, it's her own fault.

The girl bit her lip as she read it, looking extremely hot. "Is this for your wife?" she questioned when she was through.

"WHAT? Wife? No," I laughed, slapping a nearby counter. A few panties fell off. "I'm not married," I stated, leaning against a display of robes in what I hoped was an appealing way.

"Oh..." she trailed off. "What size is your friend, then?"

My mouth fell open.

"Excuse me? _Friend?_ Miss, I don't believe you know what you're talking about. A wanker just flirted with me in Flourish and Blots and I got out as quickly as my feet could take me. I'm not _gay_, all right? I am perfectly, one hundred percent, up and down, **straight**, all right?" I snarled defiantly. "As in _heterosexual!" _I added, as an afterthought.

She looked perplexed. "That's good to know, but I meant your _girlfriend_," she told me.

**Oh, dear Salazaar.**

I was so relieved that she hadn't doubted my manliness, that I told her the list was, indeed, for my girlfriend. Well, not my girlfriend, but just a girl who was a friend who gave me errands to run. It was a lot easier than saying I was shopping for my disgusting parents. And I got to flirt with her.

We got everything in less than five minutes, and I was in the check-out line, feeling very good indeed. I looked in front of me and I felt a thousand times better.

Standing in front of me was another girl. I couldn't see her face, but she had very pretty curves, long bronze hair that flowed down her back, and the best behind I have ever seen. It wasn't totally out there like Pansy's, but it was big enough.

I had a feeling that this girl would be super-duper, extremely gorgeous, and before I could stop myself, I put my hand on her bum and squeezed it.

"_Excuse_ me!" she exclaimed, and whipped around.

She **WAS** lovely, even though she had a very familiar annoyed look upon her face. I sneered, and was about to say something clever, when I realised something.

**It was Hermione "Mudblood" Granger.**

"_Granger?"_ I burst out stupidly.

_"Malfoy?"_ she questioned, looking shocked.

"I didn't know it was _you_," I explained hurriedly.

Her eyes narrowed. "**So**, you just go about touching strangers on the bottom?" she demanded in fury. "You think it's right to treat women as objects?_ I_ am certainly **NOT** amused. But **NOT** surprised," she huffed, folding her arms. In one of her hands, she was holding some racy underwear.

I snickered. "Hermione _Granger_! Who would have known she shopped for _pleasure panties_?"

She blushed. "Shut it, you horrible person!"

That in itself was hilarious.

"Next!" called the cashier.

Hermione looked deadly. "I am **NOT** quite through with you, **_MALFOY_**."

She pulled me off to the side. "How dare you insult me," she whispered. "Haven't you grown up yet?"

I didn't really answer her. I couldn't think straight. Her looks were spellbinding.

"What did you do?" I managed to get out.

"Pardon?"

"To your face. _What happened_? And your hair?" I inquired, knowing that would stop her from being mad at me. I waited for her to start melting. She didn't.

She began to rant. **_"What do you mean 'what happened'? Are you hinting that I look even uglier than before? Don't you understand how wonderful it was to leave you Slytherins behind and not have to endure your snide remarks about how hideous I am?"_**

"Wait a second... I was trying to compliment you," I grinned. "I like your hair. It's not so crazy."

"You are **SO** rude," she squawked. She looked at the jumble of items in my basket. A smirk came over her face. "Who are _you_ dating?" she inquired.

I rolled my eyes. "It's not what you think, honestly! I'm dating Pansy Parkinson."

"Ah.." she trailed off, her smirk growing as she surveyed the assortment. "Still a right slag, is she?"

My ears burned. **"THIS IS FOR MY MOTHER!"** The whole store turned to stare.

She looked slightly embarrassed. "Oh, sorry." Then, she cracked up. The words" Your mum...", A Malfoy?" and "Edible panties?" were distinguishable.

"My father likes chocolate, okay? It's not so funny," I declared, my cheeks slightly pink.

"Draco _Malfoy_! Who would have supposed he buys his mother's lingerie?" she exclaimed defiantly, and charged up to the counter to buy her own underwear.

Whew! An exciting conversation! Nothing like that ever happens with Pansy. Playing hard to get, Ms. Granger? We'll just see about that.

I stepped up to pay for my Mother's things, just as Hermione was walking off with her bag.

"Granger! Wait!" I yelled, hurrying after her.

She paused by the thong display. "Yes, mummy's boy?"

"Who're _you_ dating?" I inquired.

"It's none of your business."

I sneered. "You know who I'm dating, so let's hear it."

Hermione winced. "It's complicated, though..."

As if on cue, the shop door jangled, and a voice called, "'Ermione?"

She grinned and waved. I turned around.

Neville Longbottom came into the store. He actually looked promising for once. His hair wasn't so stupid, and he only knocked over one shopping basket stand.

He headed toward us. "I wasn't sure which type of cauldron you wanted, so I decided-" he looked at me- " Oh."

She rolled her eyes. "Yes, Nev. I ran into dear Malfoy."

"All right, Neville?" I said. "What have you been up to, then?"

Neville swallowed, and shrugged.

Hermione slipped her arm through his. "Neville's been studying to become a teacher. He's been asked to take Sprout's position when he's through with school." She beamed like it was the most excellent news in the world.

"Oh, that's _wonderful_," I stated dully. " So, Longbottom, you've decided to lower yourself to the world of teaching? That is just so- sweet.."

"I like plants," he told me, looking a bit miffed. "And not very many people do." He blinked.

"Yes, that's one of the great things that makes you unique," I gushed." Now, if you'd excuse me, I've got to get over to Saint Mungo's. They need me for to perform surgery today," I lied.

Neville looked impressed, but Hermione kept staring at me.

"Isn't that where your father was placed?" she asked me slowly.

"Placed?" I snapped. " He wasn't 'placed' any where, they just did tests on him, that's all!"

"Pedophiles make me ever so sick," Hermione smiled. "I hope they put him in closed ward. Come on, Neville. Let's go."

They walked away and out of the door.

"MY FATHER IS NOT A PEDOPHILE!" I hollered, staring after them in seething anger. How dare she insult my father! How dare she be so sexy! How dare she link arms with Longbottom!

She'd said the situation was 'complicated'? How can anything with Neville in it be complicated?

It suddenly didn't matter that she was a dirty blood.. Of course, it never really had. I'd just called her names in school to keep my Malfoy- Badboy image up to snuff. But now, she was beautiful, and spicy. She wasn't dull and agreeable, like dear Pansy. She was willing to give me a tongue- lashing.

_(I like the sound of that.)_

I knew in my heart that I needed to help out the Mudblood. I mean, she was so hot, and she deserved a bloke like me, didn't she?

I decided that I would keep my eye on this relationship, and somehow, terminate it.

Longbottom:

I'll be back.


	6. Pansy's Papers

**Chapter Six**

**5:57 PM. MALFOY MANOR. GETTING READY FOR DATE WITH WHAT'S-HER-NAME.. OH, YES.. PANSY.  
**

_"Draco, baby- YEAH! You're ever so pretty! What I wouldn't give to make out with you! Bum ba da dada dah! Draco, angel- SWING IT! You're awfully sexy! I feel you're hexing me when I look at you! Dah!"_

I cheered and applauded my newest song about me. I'd have to write that one down.  
I was standing before the full- length three way mirror in my room, staring at myself in a very well- constructed outfit: A sleek black suit jacket, matching dress pants, and a gray sweater which brought out my dazzling eyes.

Hopefully Hermione would like it.

_Wait..._

That's not my girlfriend..

Parkin- **something...?  
**  
**PANSY!**

Yes! Five hundred points to Malfoy, the Mudblood- Lusting Beauty in the Expensive Dragon Hide Shoes!  
Hmm. Dragon hide. For some reason, that made me think of Hermione and her hotness. I was really hooked. It felt nice to think about the Mudblood. Even nicer perhaps than Lesbian Witches in my pillow case. (maybe not)

But I was beginning to worry that I would call Girlfriend 'Hermione' by mistake.. I would feel really bad for Hermione if I did that.I mean, Pansy really has nothing in common with her, and as you know, that's not a very good thing, whether we're dealing with brains or beauty.

But Pansy was a slut, and is a slut, and will always be one too, so for the moment, I had to pretend I was interested. That's all you have to do for girls like Pansy. So thick, you could point your wand at her ear and curse her, and the curse would just shoot sparks out of her other ear.

There came a loud knock at my door.

**"DRACO?"** snarled the voice of my loving Daddy.

He was in a bad mood because his therapist had given him some new medication that was supposed to make him happier. He doesn't like being happy very much. He poured it all out into our bushes. Then, he was angry because he realised that the medication was extremely expensive. He had a conversation by way of fireplace with his doctor, and Mother told on him about the bushes. He needed the medication more than ever, now.

"Yes?" I said innocently, not wanting angry Father to suddenly read my mind, and know that I was thinking naughty things about Mudbloods.

He opened the door. "Your girlfriend is here. Her chest is, once again, inflated. I asked her how she did it. " He smirked. Apparently, that made him happy.

"She's awfully cute," he went on to say. "It's fortunate that you have good taste in women, or I would never have _anything_ to look at."

**"I HEARD THAT, LUCIUS MALFOY!"** screamed Mother's voice from down the hall.Ouch.

"Oh, look," Father said dryly. "It's Nurse DoGood."

Mother appeared in front of my door as well. "Listen to me, Lucius. I want you to be fully cured, and it isn't going to happen if you drop perfectly good medication out in the yard! Perhaps it would have helped you. Maybe, it could have cleared away some of our problems. But NO. You're just so ignorant that you can't bear to think that someone else is right about you."

"The word is _arrogant_," Father snapped. "And, _nooo, _I am **not **arrogant!"

There was a silence.

"Look, parents," I said slowly, turning around to face them. "I was just embarrassed in front of half England's women today, because YOU TWO wanted EDIBLE UNDERWEAR," I hissed quietly. "If you aren't going to use it, I might as well die, because you made me go out into the cold and purchase your romantic, sickening, crap. Now, excuse me, I have a date with Her- PANSY," I declared, shoving them apart, and walking down the hall.

"Now, son. You do not need to overreact," Father called after me.

"Freaks," I exclaimed, as I continued down the hallway.

"Have fun!" Mother added.

I heard them continue bickering as soon as I got on the staircase.

Lord. I HATE when they get so angry. Starting up heated arguments about things they don't really care about anyway. It happens almost every night. Then, the next morning, it's like it's all solved and we're a big happy family, and it's all great and lovely. Nutters, I'm telling you.

I pounded down the staircase, still a bit annoyed, and nearly rammed into Girlfriend.

She squealed and giggled. "Heyyyy, sweeetheearrt!" She wrapped her arms around me, knocking the wind out of my chest. I could feel crinkled paper against me.

"Hello," I croaked painfully, giving her a kiss on the cheek.

I got off the stairs and she grinned at me. "You look very nice," she observed.

I studied her. "You too," I admitted. It is true, she has a very pretty face, with round eyes and nice lips. But I couldn't help comparing her to Hermione now.

"Are you all right, Draco? I heard your parents yelling. Are you all right?" she repeated, all ready snuggling into my arms, and staring up at me like she would burst into tears if I was ever hurting in any way.

I nodded. "I'm fine," I declared, forcing a smile and a laugh. "They weren't really yelling.. Just arguing, you know?"

She beamed. "Good!" She took my hand, as we headed for the exit.

"Your Father is ever so nice," she told me excitedly, which really surprised me.

**"Why?"** I asked in confusion.

"He told me I was pretty, and then he asked how I got such nice breasts."

**Cheek!** Oh, disturbing! Get away from my girlfriend, damn it!

"What breasts?" I inquired without thinking.

"What?" she snapped, eyes growing extremely wide.

_"Er.. I said, nice dress!"_ I put in quickly.

She smiled sweetly. "Oh! Thank you." She giggled. "But it's called a _skirt_, silly!"

Oh my.


	7. Two Timing It

^^**^^**^^**Chapter Seven- Two-Timing It**^^**^^**^^  
  
"Mr. Malloy, party of two," called the hostess of Diagon Alley's  
swanky restaurant, The Cult.  
  
I wrenched my hand out of Pansy's grip, and stood. "It's MAL-  
FOY," I told her with a smirk.  
  
She smiled. "I know, sir. Your table has not been called yet."  
  
I nodded slowly, feeling slightly stupid, and sat back down, as  
an elderly gent whom I took to be Mr. Malloy and a very thin woman  
followed the hostess to their table.  
  
Pansy, not quick enough to figure out what just happened,  
tittered and began to snog me on the mouth.  
  
"Mr. MAL-FOY, party of two," called the hostess a few moments  
later, which I did not think was necessary, but she seemed to think  
she was funny.  
  
Pansy and I got up, and sauntered after the woman. She seated us  
at a very cramped table for two next to a huge fern and a little pond-  
type thing.  
  
"Don't you have anywhere a bit more.. Roomy?" I questioned,  
taking Pansy's coat.  
  
"Ooh, Draco!" she squeaked. "I like the privacy!"  
  
The hostess smiled sugar-coatedly and strolled away, leaving me  
to deal with Princess Giddy.  
  
We sat, and inspected the menu.  
  
Pansy wrinkled her little nose. "Ick-y," she murmured.  
  
"What's the matter?" I declared, wiping a bit of slobber off the  
menu where the words 'prime rib' were printed.  
  
"Fish stew," she said tragically. "Fish is my least favorite  
word."  
  
I stared at her. "Why?"  
  
"Oh, I don't know," she shrugged. "It just sounds so- ew." She  
smiled again. "What's your least favourite word?"  
  
I was trying to think up a believable answer, when I spotted  
something familiar:  
  
Bright red hair.  
  
"WEASLEY!" I yelled, pointing in the direction of the auburn  
locks.  
  
"I don't blame you," Pansy sniffed, completely oblivious to my  
findings.  
  
The red haired guy turned around. Long nose, freckles dotting  
his face, confused expression- it was Ron, all right!  
  
I stood up. "Hello, Weasley," I greeted in a very artificially  
sweetened tone.  
  
"Malfoy," he spat out, glaring.  
  
"How could you step foot in a restaurant?" I questioned. "Aren't  
you the son of Arthur, the poorest wizard alive? Isn't it true that  
you were once living out of a cardboard box for a few years?"  
  
Ron looked so angry, I could tell he was about to shout, when a  
girl appeared behind him.  
  
My heart beat started pounding.  
  
Hermione.  
  
She saw his reddened ears. "Ron?! What's the mat-" she followed  
his gaze over to my table. "Oh. You again."  
  
Again! She remembered seeing me before! Yeeaaaaaa!  
  
I cocked my eyebrow. " Hello, Granger. How are you this  
evening?"  
  
"Doing fine, Malfoy," she replied through clenched teeth.  
  
"Ignore him, Herm," Ron instructed in fury. I could honestly see  
the rage, swirling around him like a violent maelstrom. "Come on.  
Let's get to our table."  
  
He then did the un-doable: He took her hand and led her away, to  
a table for six across from us.  
  
Did I mention he touched her?  
  
Pansy was muttering a made-up words like this one:  
cowskankdirty.  
  
She grabbed my arm.  
  
I stared longingly at Mudblood, who was telling the hostess that  
her party was only made up of four people, and that the table was much  
too large, and yes, they'd be willing to give it up.  
  
That was when I got my great idea.  
  
"Come on, Girlfriend," I commanded, without actually waiting for  
her to stand up. I practically slid on the wooden floor, and stumbled  
into the hostess.  
  
"What can I do for you, Mr. MAL-FOY?" she inquired, smiling.  
  
I put on a happy face, as Pansy appeared by my side. "Yes,"I  
stated. "We're actually part of the Weasley- Granger party. We just  
forgot that all of us would be dining together tonight."  
  
"WHAT?" boomed Ron.  
  
"So sorry," I exclaimed," but one does tend to forget a dinner  
appointment with chums when one is operating.. You have to forgive me,  
Ron."  
  
Pansy made a squeaking noise," What are you doing?"  
  
Hermione made a face. "You know, Pansy, for once I was just  
about to say the same thing that you just did."  
  
The hostess smiled. "Great. Less of a trip. I'll get your extra  
menus. Please be seated."  
  
I selected a middle spot, and took my jacket off. Everyone else  
simply stood there, staring open- mouthed at me as though I were some  
sort of impostor.  
  
Pansy sat to the right of me, still looking bewildered.  
  
"Come on, now, mates. I've been wanting to treat you all to a  
meal for a long time," I said slowly, letting the words sink in.  
  
Ron glowered at me, looked around to make certain that no one  
was watching, and sat down across from Pansy.  
  
"Ron- we don't have to do this.. I'll pay," Hermione pleaded, a  
bang falling from her tight pony tail into her face. I so wanted to  
push it back.  
  
"No, Herm. I think that it's time Malfoy did something to pay us  
back for all the years of torture," Ron sniffed," and personally, a  
free dinner is just what I've been waiting for."  
  
Great. Now I'm a meal ticket.  
  
Hermione sighed. "Ronald, please!"  
  
"Hermione," I declared. "The tribe has spoken."  
  
She made a face, and sat down across from me.  
  
I nudged her foot playfully with my own under the table. She  
kicked me. Wow.. Pain is so sexy sometimes.  
  
Pansy leaned over, as though no one else at the table was able  
to see her. "Draco," she whispered. "They don't want us here.. And I  
hate that slag" (Hermione's nose wrinkled), "and I want to be alone  
with you," she finished, in a demanding tone.  
  
I turned back to her, speaking loudly. "That's no way to act,  
missy." She stared at me, in shock. I was shocked myself. 'Missy'? Oh,  
well.  
  
"So.." I continued." Who are we waiting on exactly?"  
  
Ron and Hermione gave each other a Look.  
  
Ron swallowed. "Harry."  
  
I forced a laugh, sounding like my father at dinner parties,  
when someone tells a joke that ends with a line like 'too many  
bicycles are going too damned fast'.  
  
"Of course," I exclaimed. "My favourite little boy who's still  
living. I suppose he's bringing that beautiful Japan girl? Cho-  
something or what?.."  
  
Hermione's eyes narrowed. "She's from China,you biggot."  
  
"I don't give a hoot where she's from. I'm just glad she's  
alive," I grinned. Pansy 'hmped'. Hermione rolled her eyes. Ron  
started to nod, but then thought better of it.  
  
"Anyway, he's not bringing Cho," Ron announced.  
  
"Ron.. Shh!" Hermione whispered.  
  
I stared at them. What strange people.  
  
"What? He's bound to find out, any way," Ron said through  
clenched teeth.  
  
To be completely honest with you world: I really couldn't care  
less about Harry Potter and his perfectness (and rage.. lots of  
rage..).  
  
So, I stopped this eerie conversation abruptly with: "Are you  
two a couple?"  
  
Ron and Hermione quit arguing about their beloved leader.  
  
Ron grinned and shrugged, and Hermione looked at him and smiled.  
  
How second year.  
  
He reached for her hand and stroked it. That bastard!  
  
"Well," he said, " it isn't really official, but I'd like it to  
be."  
  
DIE! DIE! DIE!  
  
I smiled hugely. "Really?" I inquired cutely, and then turned to  
Hermione. "So, HERM, how was your date with Neville Longbottom today?"  
  
The hands broke apart.  
  
"What?" Ron demanded, glaring at me. Why me? I wasn't the two-  
timing little beauty of a Mudblood!  
  
She gave me a split- second glance that said either 'kiss me,  
sweetness' or 'die, you sick weasel', and then patted Ron's lap. "Ron!  
It isn't really like that. Neville wanted to take me out to lunch, and  
he's one of my best mates, so I went along, of course," she told him  
pointedly, using much sexy hand movement.  
  
"Really, Hermione?" Ron snarled. "Or is it because NEVILLE'S on  
full scholarship, and NEVILLE knows what he's doing? Neville, Neville,  
Neville.. I suppose you like the fact that he coddles you, too!?"  
  
"Ron," Hermione began again, but a very loud voice interrupted  
her words:  
  
"HHHHIIIIIIIIII, GUUUUYYYYS!"  
  
Hermione's head snapped to her right. "It's them," she  
whispered. She smiled very brightly. "Helllloooooooo!" She waved  
hugely.  
  
I turned around, wondering what in heck all of the excitement  
was about .  
  
How stupid. It was Harry Potter. Why would anyone put on such an  
act for a person they'd known for eight years and counting? In my  
humble opinion, it's just not worth it.  
  
Wait a minute.. I squinted my eyes as Harry as he came closer.  
From where I was sitting, it looked as though Potter had his arm  
around a guy. Couldn't be...  
  
It was.  
  
"Hermione, dar-ling!" exclaimed the man who Harry had his arm  
over. He looked slightly familiar, but I was too caught up in this  
mystery to think anything at the moment.  
  
She stood up, grinning like mad, as the guy kissed her on the  
cheek. What is it with this? I had a bad feeling that she was cheating  
on everyone with everyone. This guy was probably another boyfriend,  
judging by the way Ron shook his hand with a terrified look upon his  
face.  
  
"It's so nice to see you again, Gavin," Hermione said, as Ron  
nodded.  
  
Harry came forward, and they all hugged. It was just so  
priceless.  
  
Ahem- PUKE!  
  
Harry grinned at them, pulling out the chair next to mine. "So,  
how is eve-" he paused, staring at me. Then, he looked away. He looked  
back at me and glared. "Malfoy," he said softly, in that dry, deep,  
competitive tone that and knew and hated so very well.  
  
"Hello, Potter," I replied snidely, turning to face him.  
  
"What in the Hell is with this?" Harry inquired sharply, looking  
around at each person in turn. His bespeckled eyes fell upon Pansy. He  
rubbed his forehead, murmuring to himself.  
  
Ron shrugged. "Sorry, mate. Malfoy asked to stay for dinner, and  
promised to pay, so we agreed to it."  
  
Harry's emerald eyes visibly darkened. "Is dinner really enough  
payment for the torture we'll have to endure?"  
  
The Guy smiled and patted Harry's arm. "It's all right, Hon,  
really. Now, you've got to introduce me."  
  
HON? 'It's all right, HON?' Oh, dear....  
  
"Er... I'm not so sure if that's a good idea," Harry told him in  
a quiet voice. Obviously, though this person wasn't buying the  
message.  
  
He sat down in the chair which Harry had pulled out for him, and  
extended his arm. "Hello, nice to meet you. I'm Gavin Georgeson,  
Harry's live-in lover." He laughed. Was that a joke?  
  
"Eh- hello. I'm Malfoy. Draco Malfoy," I said, shaking his hand  
slowly.  
  
He gasped, making everyone jump.  
  
"NO way!" he declared. He turned to his supposed live-in-lover.  
"THIS is MALFOY? The greasy little slimebag who made your life a  
freakish horror?"  
  
I was aghast as Harry nodded.  
  
"That's him," he replied dully.  
  
"But, Harry! He's so ccccccuuuutttteee!" Gavin proclaimed  
loudly, as every other person at the table ducked down, as if making  
it known that it wasn't them causing the disturbance.  
  
Barmey as this guy was, I had to agree with him.  
  
Harry was beginning to get that familiar look in his eyes. That  
look of absolute madness.  
  
Gavin didn't seem to mind. "Now I understand why you had a crush  
on Malfoy for all of those years," he exclaimed.  
  
Silence.  
  
I couldn't help it. I burst out laughing, pointing at Harry and  
yelling things like, 'oh, wanker wanker wanker!'  
  
Hermione looked concerned. Ron looked afraid. Harry looked like  
he would kill. Pansy looked stupid. Gavin was smiling.  
  
I stopped laughing. "No, seriously, Potter. I would have never  
thought of you as gay, but now it does make sense, doesn't it? Chasing  
me on your broom all the time, accompanying me on walks through the  
Forbidden Forest, staring at me all the time. You LOVED me," I  
declared, triumphant and proud that I had something against Potter.  
  
"I never LOVED you," Harry stated very slowly, as though he was  
trying very hard not to pop a vessel. "I thought you were OKAY looking  
for about TWENTY seconds, and THAT WAS ALL!"  
  
Gavin grinned. "Oh, Harry, I think it was more than twenty-  
  
"You know what? SHUT UP!"  
  
-"seconds."  
  
Seeing the two queens fighting was so hysterical to me, that I  
had to look at the carpet. I snorted loudly, trying to surpress a  
chortle.  
  
"You know what, Malfoy. Just leave," Harry barked.  
  
"I second that," Ron declared.  
  
"Yes, please do," Hermione nodded.  
  
Pansy looked at me hopefully.  
  
But Gavin patted my shoulder. "Don't leave. I like you. I think  
you're full of vim and vigor. And you're hot. You have good taste,  
Harry." He cracked up. No one really understood.  
  
I could tell the rest of them didn't want to disagree with The  
Guy, because he was Harry's 'lover', and he was also a guest. Besides,  
who could resist those dimples? Wait a second... Dimples.. That smile.  
I knew it was familiar.  
  
Things began to click into place. It was the cool, suggestive  
smile of...  
  
THE GUY THAT HAD FLIRTED WITH ME IN FLOURISH AND BLOTS! Oh  
horror of horrors! I couldn't believe it!  
  
If he remembered my face, I'd never live it down. Hermione would  
think I was gay. Ron would beat me up. Harry and The Boyfriend would  
make me dress up in a Swedish milk maid costume - or something gay and  
twisted like that.  
  
I would not let it happen.  
  
I just wouldn't, all right? I decided that for the rest of the  
night, I would conceal my beautiful face and ignore Gavin if he  
recalled our little enocounter.  
  
I picked up my napkin and put it over my face.  
  
"What's wrong, Draco?" Pansy asked.  
  
"Uh- I like the smell of fine linen," I replied.  
  
Lame-o. 


	8. Trouble

^^**^^**^^**Chapter Eight- Trouble**^^**^^**^^  
  
6: 48 PM. SALADS AND SOUPS ONLY JUST ARRIVING.  
  
"..And the baked potato soup with extra bacon and chives for  
you, sir," the waitress recited, placing my minuscule cup of flavored  
water in front of me.  
  
Covering my face with my hand, I said," Thank you, ma'am."  
  
She looked at me strangely, but continued with the rest of the  
food items. I thought quickly about how I was going to keep my  
identity a secret while eating. Though rude, I decided that leaning  
against my hand while I ate would be the best decision.  
  
When everyone had received their soups or salads, no one spoke.  
It was very lucky for me, but kind of strange being part of such an  
uncomfortable silence.  
  
"Ahem," Ron coughed.  
  
Gavin smiled at him.  
  
Ron blushed.  
  
Everyone looked away.  
  
"So..." began Ron once more. " How are things, Harry?" He said  
all of this while staring down at his chicken salad.  
  
Harry shrugged to his clam chowder. "Fine, I suppose. How are  
you?"  
  
"Good."  
  
"Your mum?"  
  
"Good."  
  
"Your dad?"  
  
"Good."  
  
Harry nodded, apparently satisfied. "That's nice."  
  
Hermione looked as though she might cry. I didn't understand it  
at all! Those two were inseparable. They were always acting stupid,  
and laughing, and running around fighting crime! I mean, graduation  
was only a few months ago, when you really thought about it. Had they  
really changed that much?  
  
More silence followed. I almost asked what was going on, but as  
soon as I'd figured out I could sink low enough so that no one would  
see my face, the waitress came back with our meals.  
  
Yes! I perked up straight away at the sight of my 20 ounce cut  
prime rib with mashers and peas!  
  
I nearly knocked over my water glass while grabbing my steak  
knife.  
  
Hermione was having the alfredo prawn pasta, which is extremely  
sexy. I would like to see Hermione in only alfredo sauce. Hell yeah!  
  
Gavin and Harry were having a debate about whether their  
rosemary chicken had been broiled or baked, and Ron was asking the  
waitress why his meal didn't come with tartar sauce.I cautiously put  
my hand down when I realised that Pansy had just left to go to the  
restroom.  
  
I took it as an opportunity to flirt. "Hermione," I said  
slowly. "You look really nice tonight."  
  
She peered at me over her bowl of noodles, looking disgusted.  
"Don't even try that on me, you pig."  
  
"Look, Herm, can't you even give me a chance?" I pleaded cutely.  
  
"Are you kidding me?" She shook her head firmly, and slipped her  
hand through Weasley's. I know she wanted me. She just didn't want to  
tell me in public.  
  
Pansy returned shortly after. "Why is my veal cutlet rare?" she  
demanded to no one, and raised her hand until the waitress came over  
to take it back.  
  
"Draco," Gavin exclaimed out of nowhere. I think he was trying  
to make conversation. "Harry says the chicken was broiled. What's  
your opinion?"  
  
Who in the Hell cares?  
  
I looked at him in uttermost confusion and shrugged casually. I  
said," I honestly don't know."  
  
He stared at me blankly. "'Honestly don't know..'" he repeated.  
"Oh, my god! OH MY GOD!" he shrieked. "You-you-" he pointed at my  
face.  
  
Crap.  
  
"I know you," he exclaimed. I know you!" He turned wildly to  
Harry. "I've all ready met him. Today. At the book shop. And... Oh my  
god.." He fanned himself with his napkin as he turned back to me.  
  
I waited, holding in my breath.  
  
"Male porn," he hissed. "You're the bloke who was so nice and  
sweet and was buying MALE PORN!"  
  
It was strange- being given so many compliments, yet feeling  
like dung.  
  
Harry made a funny noise between a laugh and a sneeze. Then, he  
started cracking up.  
  
"WHAT?" Pansy screamed.  
  
"Oh, honey, I'm sorry. I didn't even think. Look.. At least you  
two can still be friends," Gavin said nicely, as Pansy started to cry.  
  
Hermione laughed into her napkin, as Ron frowned and  
mumbled,"Why?"  
  
"I'M NOT GAY!" I shouted. " I meant to buy a naked Veela  
magazine, and by mistake, I picked up the XWARLOCKSX! It was an honest  
mistake. Forgive me. Just don't question my sexuality any more!"  
  
Gavin stared at me very solemnly. "But Draco, honey. You seemed  
so confused."  
  
"I was. A man was hitting on me!" I snapped.  
  
Gavin rubbed his chin in thought.  
  
Harry grinned. "How can you mistake a naked man for a nude  
Veela? I think this was more than a mistake."  
  
This was followed by more laughter, except for Pansy, who  
stopped crying and just stared at me, as a single tear rolled down her  
cheek.  
  
"Why did you buy a woman's magazine?" Pansy asked me quietly.  
  
"I just explained that, didn't I? Honestly. It was a mistake. A  
MISTAKE," I insisted, actually putting an arm around her shoulder.  
  
"Mmkay," she smiled, and kissed me.  
  
Hermione smirked from across the table. "You know what, Draco  
Malfoy? I also don't think that it was any mistake. Because-" (she  
raised her voice) " wasn't it you who was shopping at the Sorceress'  
Secret today?"  
  
I turned a bright red. All eyes went back upon me.  
  
"I was there shopping for my mother," I explained, feeling  
really stupid.  
  
"You are a total closet- case, aren't you?" Harry asked in what  
I took to be a very offensive and rude tone.  
  
"No, I'm not you," I snapped. Oooh, burn.  
  
"Malfoy, I think you're as queer as me, and you just can't admit  
it because you're afraid." Harry looked triumphant.  
  
I glowered at him. "When did you come out, Harry? Because I'm  
getting vibes here that are telling me it hasn't been very long since  
you did."  
  
Ron snorted. Harry shifted uncomfortably. Ha! I'm right!  
  
Silence again.  
  
The sounds of clinking forks and knives filled my ears, but no  
conversation was flowing. It was just a tiny bit disturbing. But  
here's something even more disturbing:  
  
Pansy (out of all people!) tried to make conversation!  
  
She let out a little sigh, and everyone looked at her. She was  
staring moodily at Ron's fish and chips.  
  
"How can you eat that?" she declared, sounding angry, actually.  
  
"What?" Ron exclaimed. "What are you talking about?"  
  
She sighed again. "Oh, I just despise the word 'fish'. It's so  
disgusting."  
  
Ron squinted at her. "Who cares about the word? What does it  
matter? Have you ever eaten fish?"  
  
She shrugged. "Sure. It's all right, I suppose. I just don't  
like the word. What's your least favourite word?"  
  
"A game?" Gavin squealed. "Oh, fun! Super! Can I play?"  
  
"Sure!" Pansy squeaked. "First say your favourite word. Then,  
say your least favourite."  
  
Gavin smiled. "My favourite word.. Is.. 'Boy', of course!" Pansy  
giggled. Hermione and Harry exchanged Looks. Ron went rigid.  
  
"I like the word 'books'," Hermione put in. " That's because I  
love to read, though. I don't like the word 'villain', because I  
really dislike mean people." She glanced at me. Could this mean  
something? Yea!  
  
Ron shrugged, and looked over at Harry. "Well, I'll tell you one  
word that I hate. 'Secret'. Because FRIENDS SHOULDN'T KEEP SECRETS  
FROM EACH OTHER!" With that, he stood up.  
  
"Ron.. Don't do this," Hermione whispered softly, putting  
her face into her hands.  
  
Harry stood up, too. "Is that all you can think about? How hard  
it was for you to find out you didn't know about me? Did you even stop  
to think that maybe it was even harder for me to keep it inside  
forever?"  
  
"Don't put this all on me, Harry!" Ron shouted. Other people  
were staring now.  
  
"I'm not-"  
  
Ron shook his head furiously. "I have to go away for a moment.  
Would you excuse me?" With that, he turned around and stalked away.  
  
I could see the anger growing once more as I looked at Harry's  
expression.  
  
"WANT TO KNOW MY LEAST FAVOURITE WORD?" Harry bellowed.  
"HOMOPHOBIC!"  
  
Whoa. That was scary.  
  
Hermione stood up, giving him a hug. "It's okay.. It's fine.."  
  
Harry rolled his eyes and sat down. Hermione put an arm on his  
shoulder. Damn him! DAMN HIM! Gay and Hermione STILL likes him more  
than me.  
  
"Harry, it isn't your fault at all. It's just been hard for Ron  
to deal with."  
  
Gavin reached out to touch Harry's hand and Harry pulled his  
away. "Look, Harry.. I'm sorry. I know you and Ron are best mates, but-  
"  
  
"Were," Harry said. "We were."  
  
Our waitress walked over to our table and frowned. "Look, I'm  
really sorry, but we're going to have to ask you to leave if you don't  
tone it down."  
  
"Who is 'we'?" I questioned. "You and your uncle? You and the  
management?"  
  
She blinked impatiently. "Please be a bit more considerate of  
our other customers."  
  
"I'm really sorry," Hermione said honestly. " Draco will leave a  
huge tip for you." She gestured to me. She's so genero- wait a  
minute..  
  
This seemed to make the waitress forget about being considerate.  
She grinned happily and skipped away.  
  
Harry shook his head. "Sorry to put such a damper on the  
evening."  
  
I shrugged. "It's all right. I forgive you."  
  
"Shut the Hell up, Malfoy."  
  
Oh. I see how it is. 


	9. The Plan! Bwah ha ha!

^^**^^**^^**Chapter Nine- Finally Do We Part^^**^^**^^**^^  
  
7:23 PM- EVERYONE GETTING READY TO LEAVE. APPARENTLY I'M THE ONLY ONE  
WHO WANTED DESSERT.  
  
A few minutes later, Ron had returned to the table, but he and  
Harry were not speaking directly to each other. It was very sad.  
Actually, it was funny. I lied.  
  
"Is Harry leaving now?" Ron inquired of Hermione, who, being the  
nice girl that she is replied:  
  
"Hmm. I don't know. Why don't YOU ask HIM?"  
  
Harry 'mumphed' and declared,"Yes, we're finished eating. Tell  
Ron we're finished eating."  
  
Good times, good times.  
  
Reading the bill, I fumbled through my leather pouch ( NOT A  
PURSE!), and brought out ninety Galleons. They jangled onto the  
hostess' table.  
  
At this sound, Gavin began to bob his head, singing in a  
whisper," I hear those sleigh bells jingling, ring-ring-ringaling,  
too..." He went silent for a moment. "OH! OH! OH!" he exclaimed. "That  
reminds me! Christmas is coming!"  
  
About a third of the people in The Cult turned around to stare.  
Harry shook his head to himself, looking down.  
  
"Yes," Hermione said. "We'll have to go Christmas shopping."  
  
I think that was exactly what Gavin wanted to hear. He looked  
toward the heavens and shouted,"YES!" After he was calm once more, he  
said,"And Herm, we need your new address for Christmas cards,"- ( my  
ears perked, and I stared intently) - " you big, bad girl, all alone  
in Diagon Alley with-"  
  
Hermione silenced him with her hand," You can have it," she told  
him quickly, grabbing her purse, and opening a little book. When she  
handed over a piece of paper to Gavin, I knew right then that I needed  
that paper. My life depended upon that paper. Either that, or I would  
go about Diagon, knocking on doors, and shouting out her name..  
  
Hmm.. Sounds romantic.. I may have to force myself to resort to  
that one.  
  
As we walked out of the restaurant, my fingers throbbed for that  
paper. But I had to act normal.  
  
"Well, Hermione, it was good to see you again.. Come over soon,  
we'll fix you something-" Harry began.  
  
"He makes a mean steak pie," Gavin added.  
  
Ron nodded his head, saying "Nice to see you," although he  
didn't sound like he thought it 'nice' at all.  
  
Harry clenched his lips forcefully into a smile as he said," Oh,  
and if you do come over, Hermione, be certain to bring NEVILLE with  
you."  
  
There was a pause.  
  
"ARRGH!" Ron roared. Pansy jumped, clutching her heart.  
  
"Harry-" Hermione snapped, looking angry.  
  
Harry shrugged. Gavin smacked him with his jacket.  
  
Ron's dark brown eyes sped over to Granger. "So, Hermione? Are  
you dating him or not? I want to know! I NEED TO KNOW RIGHT NOW!"  
  
"We can talk about this situation later, Ron," she replied,  
trying to act cool, but I was anxious to know more as well.  
  
"No, Hermione, we'll talk about it NOW!" he spat out furiously.  
"I hate being in the dark about this.. I mean, I really love you, and  
now I've been discovering that you're not as faithful to me as I would  
have hoped.. Been finding things around your apartment. First it was  
Neville's college books, then homemade cookies, which are his Gran's  
specialty, and then that damned toad-"  
  
"WHAT?" Harry screamed, doubling over with laughter.  
  
Hermione rolled her eyes. " Neville simply came over for coffee  
one day, to visit, and-"  
  
"Why would someone bring their toad with them if they hadn't  
planned to spend the night?"  
  
Harry grinned. "What, does Trevor serve as some sort of a way to  
be able to-"  
  
"HARRY," Hermione snapped, but Ron was snorting. He and Harry  
snorted together until they made eyes and fell silent.  
  
I was serious about the whole ordeal. "Granger, are you uh-  
physically active with Longbottom?"  
  
"I HOPE NOT!" Ron shouted, his face colour turning to that  
burning maroon we all knew.. Kind of like that sweater he wore every  
year.. I wondered if he still owned it. Oh, well.  
  
"SHUT UP, ALL OF YOU," Hermione whispered fiercely, narrowing  
her eyes, her mouth a dipping frown. "This is my business- my own  
personal business: whom I'm intimate with, who I love.. So all of you,  
just stop discussing me!"  
  
She covered her mouth with her hand, whimpering slightly.  
  
A strange thing happened. Pansy came up and placed her arm  
around Hermione's shoulder. "You shouldn't keep harassing her like  
that. It isn't right. She wasn't put here to please you, Weasley." she  
declared.  
  
They both hugged.  
  
All of our mouths hung open ( except for Gavin). It was  
mystifying- spooky, even. But damn, was it hot!  
  
"Excuse me," Ron began, totally ruining the girly moment," but I  
don't want her to please me! I just want to know who she's really  
dating!"  
  
Hermione straightened up. "Neither of you."  
  
My stomach gave a jolt of relief.  
  
Ron was flabbergasted. "Huh?"  
  
"You heard me. NONE OF YOU." she spat. "I love the two of you-  
you're the best! And I like all of the time we spend together, and  
everything is great, but I just can't choose between you. So, I  
haven't made a commitment to either, until I know for certain."  
  
"So there's a chance that you would choose Neville over me?" Ron  
asked, looked positively shut down.  
  
Hermione nodded. "Stop belittling him."  
  
Harry was laughing at Ron behind his boyfriend.  
  
"You too," she snapped.  
  
He fell silent.  
  
Ron tried to look nice as he said," So is a chance that you'll  
know soon?"  
  
She smiled tightly. "Ron, it could be a week, and it could be  
years. I'm eighteen- I've got all of the time I want. Besides, it  
might not even be one of you who I want to be with after all."  
  
That was when I knew it. I had to be the guy who would show her  
true love. I had to be the one who would stop the endless 'back and  
forth' stuff that had obviously going on for awhile.  
  
I mean, how hard would it be to be a better boyfriend then Ron  
Weasley and Neville Longbottom? Not very. I have more money, more  
charm, MUCH better looks, and a lot more to offer- in many, many  
areas.  
  
All I had to do was get Hermione to realise that I was the right  
one. It couldn't take too long. One date with me, and bam! She'd know  
that I am witty, smart, and very good at being 'bad'. She deserves  
me.. Almost.  
  
***  
  
That night, while thinking in my room, I decided that I would  
title my brilliant plan to cause Hermione to love me.  
  
'Maybe Draco's Plan to Win Hermione's Affection?' I thought.  
'No, no, too general.. Huh.. Draco's Idea to Finally Get His Hands of  
Those- nah.. Some might find that one offensive.'  
  
And then, I thought of the perfect title:  
  
Operation Saving Prefect Granger.  
  
Ooh. I like that. 


	10. Gavin's Grief

*AN: YEAAAA!!! I am so glad to get back to this story.. I took a break  
for a bit to work on schoolish types of things, and it's great to be  
here. I want to take a moment before we begin to thank every person  
who has reviewed this fan fiction.. Every review drives me to write  
more. I love you people! You must be nearly as crazy as I am to  
appriciate this stuff, so good for us!  
  
And in response to a few of the reviews: Yes, this is a HG+DM fiction,  
but their relationship has not yet bloomed. And yes, it's got slash in  
it. I just figured that I'd have a few side stories going as well. And  
about Harry- many of you were displeased to see Harry as a slashy boy,  
but to be honest with you, I figured that Harry's mindless rage and  
confusion had to be about something, and it sure wasn't about Cho! All  
right, now I'm not being serious.. I just thought it would make for an  
entertaining story, all right? *cries*  
  
Also, I have a question. If any of you readers know how to covert  
words to italics, bold, and pther such things, could you email me? I  
can't make it work, even when I type in the code. any help would be  
appriciated.  
  
Well, I hope you enjoy this chapter. The Plan is hatched and  
begun, and many books, tears, and (later) bushes are involved. Happy  
reading!  
  
**^^**^^**CHAPTER TEN**^^**^^**  
  
11:01 AM. IN CLASS AT SAINT MUNGO'S. ENGAGED IN THOUGHTS OTHER  
THAN SCHOOL WORK. ON THE VERGE OF BEING REPRIMANDED.  
  
The morning after the restaurant drama, I found it extremely difficult  
to focus. Every time my professor would mention a word with an "H", I  
thought of Hermione. Word with a "G", Granger. Word with an "S"- well,  
I'm guessing you get the picture.  
  
I am so used to getting what I want in record time, so not getting  
Granger was driving me barmey. The night before, I had been dragged  
(literally) to Pansy's house, and had to listen to her jabber about  
how 'adorable' Harry's little Gavin- friend was. I mean, I have to  
admit, the guy seemed pretty decent for someone who was obviously  
attracted to Potter, but to be honest, I didn't want to hear  
"Girlfriend" talking about him. It annoyed me, especially when she  
talked about him for nearly a half an hour and then tried to make out  
with me. Gay or not, you just don't talk about another guy to Draco  
Malfoy. Not okay.  
  
So, she was hurt when I pulled away and told her I had to go home and  
feed my pet snake. I thought it was a good excuse. She didn't seem to  
think so. But enough about Pansy! The more time I spent with her, the  
more that I realised how much she annoyed me. The way she giggle at  
everything I said, the way she twirled her tongue through her teeth  
when she smiled, the way she thought that every little look I gave her  
had hidden meaning that read as 'I'm horny right now'.  
  
The entire time I spent with her, I kept wishing that I was Ron, at  
home, cuddling with Hermione. Even Neville!  
  
And that in itself is remarkably sad.  
  
"Malfoy?"  
  
I snapped back to Real Life, and saw my medical instructor, Professor  
Kasey staring at me with a tart look on her angular face.  
  
Med. School was actually very engaging, and it was a plus that class  
was only three days a week and from seven AM to noon. This is because  
is was only a starter course- my father had enrolled me into a much  
more prestigious medicine academy outside of London, but the  
requirements called for at least a year of training in a community  
course.  
  
"Draco Malfoy, what did you discover throughout the emergency  
activity?" she inquired.  
  
"Uhh.." I shuffled though my notes mindlessly, while trying to recall  
exactly what this 'emergency activity' was.  
  
She shook her head. "Malfoy, where has your head been lately?"  
  
Without Hermione Granger, that's where.  
  
12:19 AM.  
  
"What will you have, sir?" inquired the barista at StarKnuts, an  
extremely popular and swanky coffee joint in Diagon Alley at which I  
was a regular.  
  
Taking a deep breath, I prepared to order 'the usual' : "I'll  
have  
atripleshotdoublegrandealmondmochawithaddedmilk,extrafoam,andanalmondbi  
scottiontheside,togo."  
  
She looked at me funny. "You usually hate the foam, sir." She  
giggled. "Is something wrong?"  
  
***  
  
After having my delicious coffee, I decided that I absolutely HAD to  
do something about Hermione. Operation Saving Prefect Granger had to  
begin, and very soon. I resolved that the first, and easiest step  
would be to go to Flourish and Blotts and try to pry information out  
of Gavin. It didn't seem too difficult.  
  
But I had to be good with my words, and make him think that I was his  
very good pal and was actually coming to see him at work to simply  
shoot the breeze. Little did I know how very hard such a simple task  
would become...  
  
12:56. AT FLOURISH AND BLOTTS. MAKING MY WAY TO CASHIER DESK.  
  
From the entry way where I was heading from, I could see clearly that  
Gavin was not cashiering that afternoon. 'Don't tell me he's home  
sick, or some other mad dragon crap,' I thought in anger. 'That WOULD  
happen, wouldn't it? Just when I was ready to start stalking- ER- I  
mean, looking for Herm.'  
  
I walked straight up to the counter, despite the people in line who  
looked mortified and said things like "Oi! You!"  
  
"The line is behind you, sir," said a classy looking old guy with a  
very posh, dull sounding voice. He looked faceless and absolutely  
bored out of his mind. He was the type of person you felt sorry for  
almost immediately.  
  
But I wasn't prepared to be sorry. Oh, no.  
  
"Now, you listen here: you had better tell me that Gavin Georgeson is  
here, because if he isn't, I'm going to tell your manager on you, and  
you'll all be fired, see? FIRED! You got that?" I shouted, growing  
louder as the number of gasps in the crowd grew.  
  
The little man made no sign of being scared. His expression did not  
change. Instead, he tapped on his little name badge.  
  
I read it.  
  
'MANAGER', it said in bold letters.  
  
"Now, is there something you needed, sonny Jim? You really must speak  
up. I must admit that my ears are not as keen as they once were." He  
waited.  
  
I sighed. "All RIGHT. If you want to play it that way, I'll play. G-A-  
V-I-N G-E-O-R-G-E-S-O-N. Do you know him? He works here. Now, where  
is he, old boy?"  
  
His eyebrows arched. "Are you his significant other?"  
  
'Not again,' I thought in fury.  
  
"NO," I spat out, as the crowd tittered. "I'M NOT THAT WAY."  
  
"Well, if you are not his significant other, than I suggest you leave,  
before you get pulled in."  
  
"Huh?" Did he say 'pulled in'? Pulled into what?  
  
He shrugged. "I'm warning you that you should go away, for your own  
safety, sonny Jim."  
  
"Look, old man. I just need to ask him something. I don't think you'll  
lose any business if I only speak to him for five seconds!" I snarled.  
  
Sighing, he said softly," You were warned." He pointed behind him,  
where there was a door. "He's in the back," he told me. "Good luck."  
  
'What in the Hell is he on about?' I wondered amusedly, so happy that  
Gavin was still alive. I went behind the counter and entered the back  
room.  
  
The first thing that I noticed was that the room was stacked with  
books waiting to be shelved. The second thing that I noticed was that  
there was a far off sound of weeping, coming from the end of the  
room.  
  
"Hello?" I voiced cautiously, as the door shut behind me, leaving me  
in the dimness of the nerd paradise. I should not have spoken so  
quickly.  
  
At least five books propelled through the air at ninety miles an hour,  
crashing all around me.  
  
"SOD OFF, HARRY, YOU POMPOUS BASTARD! LEAVE ME ALONE!" hollered a  
voice. It was Gavin's voice, but it sounded distorted compared the  
usual merry sing song way he usually spoke.  
  
"Uh..." I struggled for the right words. To be honest with you, I was  
now really afraid. I decided that a proclamation of truth was  
necessary for my safety and continued existence on planet earth. "This  
isn't Harry!" I explained loudly, shouting as though I were on the end  
of a tunnel, which was party true.  
  
"Oh.." replied the voice of Gavin, almost sadly, as though he was  
disappointed. "Well," he said curtly," who is it then? Who else in the  
world would ever give a puffskien's ass about Gavin? Annoying Gavin.  
Stupid Gavin." His voice darkened. "FAGGY Gavin."  
  
Whoa. Something was wrong. Extremely wrong.  
  
"This is Draco Malfoy," I notified him. "You know, from dinner? The  
blonde, handsome one?" (Just in case he forgot)  
  
"Oh." he said again. He sniffled. "Well, you can come back, I guess."  
  
"Are you going to throw any more novels at me?" I inquired, a waver of  
a laugh in my very nervous voice.  
  
He snorted. "They were encyclopedias. But no. No, I'm not. Come on  
back."  
  
As I wound through the maze of books, I steadied myself. 'Easy Draco.  
Don't ask too many questions, and you won't need to hear too many  
details. Don't make eye contact. Don't show any sign of resentment,  
hostility, or interest. Don't say anything good about the offending  
party. And overall, CHANGE THE SUBJECT TO HERMIONE GRANGER AND GET THE  
HELL OUT!'  
  
I found him, hunched and leaning on the back of the wall, tear stains  
all over his designer blouse.  
  
I wiped dust off a big box and sat down. "Hello, there."  
  
He barely looked up. "Well, the worst has happened."  
  
I didn't ask any questions. So what was he doing?  
  
"What, they outlawed Veela from our world?"  
  
"It isn't funny."  
  
"I know it's not. How could it be?"  
  
He sighed. "I'm serious." He paused. "Harry Potter has left me."  
  
I didn't say anything. I sat with my arms folded, and my mouth closed.  
  
Gavin looked up defensively. "Well, I don't know why he did! HE  
certainly had a lot of reasons, though. It was after we went back to  
his apartment. You know, the night you bought everyone dinner? He told  
me that I was an 'embarrassment' to him and the entire world! He said  
I was childish and much too flashy for his liking. He had a list of  
things that annoyed him about me. I was humiliated. Just out of  
nowhere, he said that."  
  
"How could he say that?" I wondered aloud without thinking. "I mean,  
he's the one dating you. So, if he hates you, it's his own fault."  
  
Gavin let out a shuddering sob. "He probably DOES hate meeeee," he  
wailed.  
  
Damn it, Draco! "I didn't mean that," I said, even though I did.  
"Look, how long were you two dating?"  
  
"Approximately seven months and two days. We met when a friend  
introduced us. I had just moved back here, after studying at Beaux  
Batons for the past eight years. My mother wanted me to have a superb  
education. That, and she always had wanted to marry a Frenchman. When  
I met Harry, I thought he was just so beautiful. I mean, his glasses  
were so round and his hair was so messy, and his chest was so-"  
  
"Enough," I commanded, holding out my hand.  
  
"Sorry. But it's the truth, and I love him," he declared.  
  
I rolled my eyes. "Listen to me. Harry Potter is the type of person  
that begins to get on peoples' nerves after a long time. He's the hero-  
type, meaning he doesn't really care too much about people that  
really matter, he just runs off saving weak and stupid ones all of the  
time. He's got a bad attitude, he's egotistical, and he's the walking  
and talking definition of what some people refer to as 'dick'."  
  
Gavin's eyes locked into mine. "He left you, too, didn't he? Omigod- I  
knew the second he told me about you that there was something going  
on.. and the way you two quarreled at dinner."  
  
Feeling as though I might explode, I tried to speak very slowly.  
"Gavin. I am not gay, and I never will be gay. I hate Harry with a  
passion. We might have become friends one time, but he screwed  
everything up and became a champion at our school. I detest him. So, I  
guess in a way he left me, but not in the sense that you're talking  
about."  
  
Through his tears, Gavin gave me a little smile. "I believe you," he  
said, with a hinted intonation that he didn't believe me at all.  
"Well, Draco. I just don't know what I'll do without him. I know he's  
everything you said, but he's got so many good traits as well and I  
just can't help being in love with him."  
  
"If you ask me, I don't think he deserves anyone. I think he should  
live a long, loveless life with no one to comfort him except his fat  
Muggle cousin and his ugly scar."  
  
"Sexy scar," corrected Gavin, and a new stream of tears washed over  
his face.  
  
"What ever. If you want to forget about him, you just have to. You  
can't keep talking about him, and you can't keep remembering the good  
things. You must learn to detest Harry Potter. Don't even say his  
name. It is too terrible and ugly to utter."  
  
Gavin smacked the hard floor, and then grasped his hand painfully.  
"You're right, Draco. I have to make him see that I'm strong without  
him." He paused, looking proud.  
  
"Exactly," I said, nodding, and decided that I had done more than my  
fair share of good deeds for the day. "Gavin, have I helped you at  
all?"  
  
He grinned. "You certainly have!"  
  
"Will you help me, now?"  
  
"Sure. I'd love to!"  
  
Excellent. "I've got a bit of a problem," I told him. "I have to speak  
to Hermione about a very important subject that involves life and  
death issues, but I don't know where she lives. Therefore, I can't  
talk to her."  
  
"Hmm.. " Gavin scratched his chin. "Why go to her apartment when she  
has the two o'clock shift here?"  
  
"She what?"  
  
"Didn't you know that she works here? She does. She works from two to  
eight on week nights. she was the friend that introduced Ha- He and I  
when I first began working here."  
  
Interesting Hermione trivia.  
  
"Great!" I exclaimed, although what I really needed was her address.  
She couldn't see me. She couldn't even know that I knew she worked  
there. I had to be secretive. "Could you please not tell her that I'm  
going to come by tonight, Gavin?" I inquired. "This talk is a-  
surprise."  
  
HE nodded agreeably. "Sure."  
  
"I have to leave," I informed him. "But I hope you feel better, and  
remember that He shall never be stronger than you if you are strong."  
  
Gavin nodded, very solemn. "Thank you so much, Draco. You give the  
best advice."  
  
I stood up, brushing off my pants, and he got up as well.  
  
There was a pause.  
  
"I really appreciate it," he spoke softly. "I mean, really." He leaned  
into me, looking as though he might snog me.  
  
'Dont' be stupid, Draco...'  
  
His lips were about a centimeter away from mine.  
  
'Oh my god.. Do something! DO SOMETHING!' yelled the voice in my head.  
  
"Your welcome," I yelled, and ran off.  
  
So much for being strong. 


	11. The Stalker Who Stalked

^^**^^**^^**CHAPTER ELEVEN**^^**^^**^^  
  
I glanced at my watch. 7:50 PM, it read, in very awesome silver digits  
that glowed. Anyway, I was across the street from Flourish and Blotts,  
in a furniture store called 'Suwate Kudasai', which because of my  
extremely cultured background, I know is Japanese for 'please sit  
down'.  
  
Just for the record, my father's brother's second wife is part  
Japanese. In more familiar terms, she's my Aunt . I just didn't want  
anyone to get confused.  
  
Now, many people get don't understand it when they discover that  
my Uncle Hagawthe married an Asian woman. (I don't know why- Asian  
women are hot!) But apparently, Malfoys are supposed to be, (in the  
words of the great Ron Weasley, seventh year) "racist, sexist, blonde,  
crazy, Voldemort- worshipping chauvinist pigs- YOU ARE ALL PIGS! ALL  
OF YOU PIGS!"  
  
(This has been a short recap of a longer story in Hogwarts records  
titled 'The Day Ron Went Postal'.. Inquire for further details.)  
  
Sorry to burst your bubble, weasel- head, but all that our  
forefathers wrote in the books of my family history that is in any way  
offensive to any minorities is that 'Thou shalt not love a Mudblood'.  
And in my opinion, who needs rules any way?  
  
So, to get back to the main idea, I was at the furniture store, which  
had some pretty nice stuff from far east. My father was a fan of some  
of the paintings of geishas, so I was familiar with the store,. I had  
been camping out on various chairs for the past two hours. Before  
that, I hung out at a pet store kitty corner from Flourish and Blotts,  
and before that, I had lunch at a tea shop diagonal from Flourish and  
Blotts. That was when I saw Hermione- dressed in a beautiful, clingy  
chocolate coloured sweater- enter the book store.  
  
At about four thirty, she went outside and chatted with the scholarly  
old manager fellow until four fifty- two, when they both went back  
inside. She passed the front window at five o'clock, five sixteen, and  
twenty after six, and she was just putting up the CLOSED sign when I  
felt a finger tap my shoulder.  
  
I swiveled around in the chair.  
  
The merchant was standing there. "Mister, are you buying anything or  
not?"  
  
I groaned. "Don't kick me out. I'll only be here about ten more  
minutes."  
  
"Aren't you that wealthy man's son, Malfoy?" he questioned.  
  
I nodded. "Sure. Why not?"  
  
"Your father is a good customer. He is polite enough. He doesn't just  
lounge around in my chairs! Why can't you sit at a cafe`, like a  
normal person? You are making me very angry," he told me, but from  
what could see, he was remarkably calm.  
  
"What do you mean 'angry'?" I declared, annoyed. "All that I've done  
to you is hang out here for the past two hours. So what if I don't  
have a life! So what if I like furniture!" I faked a shuddering sigh.  
  
Tsking, he shook his head and responded," My store may be called  
'Please sit down' in English, but it sure as heck does not mean  
'Please Live Here'."  
  
"You win," I said, and left the store, not wanting to provoke this man  
any further. I'd learned my lesson with Harry.  
  
Quickly, I crouched behind a shrub in front of the shop, spying  
through the leaves. Dusk was setting in. Thank the Lord for street  
lamps. I heard a key clicking. Alert, I popped up a bit from the  
bushes. Hmm. Just the owner of the pet shop. I ducked back down.  
  
'Hermione and Draco, it would be fun.. Hermione and Draco, they'd get  
it done,' I sang to myself.  
  
Cliii-snap!  
  
I popped my head over the top of the shrubbery. Ah ha! Hermione had  
locked up for the night, and now, with much clacking of her shoes, was  
walking down the street.  
  
I waited until she had reached the corner, before getting up out of  
the bush very slowly, and creeping across the street to follow her. As  
she walked, I took up her rhythm of walking so that our steps matched  
exactly.  
  
Left, right, left, right.  
  
She stopped abruptly. I skid to a halt. She turned. I waited for a  
moment. Then, I turned.  
  
Hermione was heading down West Divin Street, I observed. Hardly  
anyone was out and about anymore. Shop windows were dark, and there  
were few brooms overhead.  
  
Then, without warning, a man who was coming out of a side alley  
directly to my left called out," G'evenin' to yeh, sir!"  
  
Without waiting for Hermione to turn around and see me, I jumped into  
the alley beside the man. He looked somewhat shocked.  
  
"Nice night , isn't it?" I returned in a false and jolly, yet creepy  
voice. I grinned like Dolores Umbridge.  
  
"GAAAAAAHHHH!" he screamed, and ran in the opposite direction.  
  
Heh heh heh. Sometimes I have my father's charm.  
  
I quietly crept out of the back street, and resumed my task. Hermione  
was pretty far away now, thanks to Friendly Hobo. But I kept my eyes  
on her as she turned right on McShallister Avenue.  
  
Risking my life, I broke into a jog and didn't stop until I was within  
ten feet of her again. Startled at the noise, she spun around. I  
ducked behind a lamp post. After looking left and right slowly, she  
continued walking. I came out of hiding.  
  
Oh no.. I suddenly had the urge to sneeze. Allow me to insert an  
explanation: When I sneeze, it isn't one of those cute, high pitched,  
forgivable things. It's loud. So I knew I had to hide. And FAST.  
  
Luckily, there was a trash can on the sidewalk. I dove behind it, and  
let it go.  
  
I heard her pause. "Is someone there?" she called. She sounded a bit  
freaked out. I wondered why. After a minute's time, I heard her heels  
again. I slowly rolled out from behind the dumpster and went after  
her.  
  
She paused in front of an old apartment house, taking another key out  
of her purse. It was the place. The home of Hermione Granger.  
  
Without thinking, I continued walking.  
  
She sprung to life. "WHO IS THERE?" she yelled out, her voice echoing  
down the street. I edged onto the side of another building, blending  
in with lawn gnomes.  
  
Quickly, she clattered up the stairs and shoved the key into the key  
hole. When the door opened, she disappeared inside. I heard locks  
snapping into place. Lights went on in her windows.  
  
I waited for awhile, bewildered at how nervous she was. It wasn't  
normal. I slithered away from the wall, and quietly moved toward her  
residence.  
  
A 09 read the door. Legerdemain Chambers read the sign out front.  
  
So, Hermione Granger lived at Centre Place, East McShallister  
Avenue, #A09, Legerdemain Chambers, Diagon Alley, 66342.  
  
Brilliant. 


	12. Oooh, Burn

*Woo. It's good to be back. Had to take a break from the madness, to  
attend to other madnesses (i.e. my new To Kill a Mockingbird fan  
fictions and Lord of the Rings-nessness). Let me tell you how much I  
love you people how have stuck by this story. Thiiiis much! *holds out  
hands as far as they can go* I love hearing what you think, and  
reading your predictions...  
  
Also, let me say that Zach, my good Gollum-ish buddy, is soley  
responsible for me getting on this chapter tonight. He IMed me,  
demanding me to 'UPDATE', and as our pal Dr. Scott from Rocky Horror  
would say "Ooond I deed." Translation: And I did. Yup. So, enjoy!  
  
^^**^^**^^CHAPTER TWELVE^^**^^**^^  
  
9:39 PM. JUST GETTING HOME BY KNIGHT BUS. GREETED BY YELLING.  
HOW FUN.  
  
"Why didn't you show, Lucius?" screamed my mother's voice,  
coming from the direction of the formal parlor on the second floor.  
  
'Great,' I moaned to myself. 'What are they disputing now?' I  
quietly made my way up the stairs, hoping that I could slip into bed  
unnoticed and continue my life in an unchaproned setting, AKA "Peace".  
  
My father's drawling accent faltered as he shouted back," I told  
you- I FORGOT! I FORGOT ONE MEETING. ONE STUPID, LOUSY MEETING."  
  
"It isn't the fact that you forgot the meeting. It's the fact  
that you forgot about DINNER- that is what's vexing me!" she returned  
hotly.  
  
Ooooh. Daddy's in trouble!!!  
  
Father snarled," I wasn't feeling well, all right?"  
  
"You left me sitting there for an HOUR, thinking DE Anonymous  
was running overtime, or that you'd had another faint, or that- I  
DON'T KNOW! But I felt so foolish, sitting there, ALONE, while  
apparently, you are here lounging about-"  
  
"VOMITING," he yelled.  
  
Thank you, dear father, but spare us the details, please.  
  
She sounded horrified, too. "What?"  
  
"The new medication you forced me to reorder makes me sick. I  
was heaving all afternoon, if you don't mind me saying." (Actually,  
yes we do, if YOU don't mind. Ass.) "I tried to contact you, but  
it's a bit hard, when you are off SHOPPING EVERY DAY and you don't  
care about ANYONE ELSE!"  
  
"Don't speak to me about caring, LUCIUS MALFOY! Why didn't you  
send an elf? An owl? Anything?" She pressed in a screeching tone that  
made me want to suffocate myself with a pillow.  
  
Pause.  
  
Uh-oh. Lucius was just burned. Lucius is done.  
  
My father gave a signature sigh. I heard him drop to their bed.  
  
"I suppose.." he began, as though it was hard for him to collect  
his thoughts." I suppose I didn't want you to know how sick I've been  
getting.." He droned off in this really sad and depressing tone.  
  
What a lying slob.  
  
"Oh, Lucy.. Lucy, Lucy-" Mother exclaimed, letting out a sob.  
"You have to tell me, darling. You can't just leave me waiting for you  
at dinner, thinking you're lying dead somewhere. If you'd have sent me  
a little note, I'd have come home right away. I'd have gotten take out-  
we could have eaten here, by candlelight. The basil and cream chicken  
was splendid!"  
  
Oh, Mother, put a sock in it.  
  
Father groaned. "Nar- I do not want to think about food!"  
  
There came a distinct sound of retching. I groaned in disgust and ran  
up the remainder of the stairs quickly. But not quick enough.  
  
"Draco, sweetheart, is that you?" Mother's head popped out of  
their bedroom doorway.  
  
"No," I told her, trying to sound honest, and sped down the  
hallway toward the safe haven.  
  
"Draco, come back." She hurried after me, her silk gown  
fluttering behind her. She grabbed my shoulders and turned me around.  
"Dear, we have to talk."  
  
I smiled. "No one HAS to do anything. That's the fun in being  
alive."  
  
Her lips were pursed, her white eye-shadowed eyes solemn. "Your  
father is very sick."  
  
"Sick in the mind, yes. Sick in physical form, no." I shrugged,  
and headed back toward my room.  
  
"DRACO!" came the shrill, snappy 'I-am-your-mother-and-I-am-better-  
than-you' voice. "Please listen to me."  
  
"No, Mother," I said loudly, taking a tone that was often used  
by Father and that always got her attention," you listen to me, all  
right? I'm tired. I've been studying all day-"kind of, it didn't  
matter what at the time-" and I don't think I can deal with him at  
this moment." I smiled at her tightly, trying to act as though it was  
no biggie, but in reality, I'll tell you something: I didn't want  
anything to be wrong with my father, and if there was, I was going to  
live my life in peace like nothing was different.  
  
Narcissa looked at me for a moment, as though she was assessing me.  
She sighed. "Good night, sweetheart," she said, and kissed the top of  
my head like I was a bloody five year old.  
  
As soon as I got to my room, I flopped down on my bed and stared at  
the ceiling.  
  
After a moment of silence, I took a deep breath, and began to sing in  
a low voice:  
  
"Draco knows where Hermy lives  
  
Hermy lives  
  
Hermy lives  
  
Hermy lives  
  
Draco knows where Hermy lives  
  
And he's got a plan."  
  
I smiled to myself, always amazed at my ability to make up songs. I hummed until I fell asleep. 


	13. Having Breakfast Pride While Celebrating...

~*~*~*CHAPTER THIRTEEN*~*~*~  
  
6:56 AM. UP VERY EARLY. CORRECTION: VERY, VERY, EXTREMELY,  
POSITIVELY EARLY. WORKING ON OPERATION SAVING PREFECT GRANGER.  
  
I was beginning to realise that if I wanted Hermione bad enough,  
I needed to make a good relationship with people that were close to  
her. Not Ron, though. Ron was out, until later. Neville, too. Those  
two would let her know about my plan before I could say the words  
'Madame Hooch is a lesbian and she makes good omelets'. Both of which  
are true. I know this because:  
  
1. Hooch came out when I was in seventh year because someone accused  
her of being in love with Professor Snape. (Sad, but true. And the  
woman just wouldn't take it.)  
  
2. She also, aside from broom flying, taught a sixth year Muggle  
Skills class, in which she made omelets and did a spell so that they  
multiplied and the whole school got to try some.  
  
She has both gay pride, and breakfast pride. Hahahahahaha.  
Breakfast pride! Stupid things are certainly knee-slappin' funny in  
the early hours of the morning.  
  
Especially since Malfoys never cook. We cannot even make toast.  
  
Just kidding. Another false rumor. We can cook if we want to,  
but we usually don't. My father took a Muggle cooking class in his  
youth because he thought it would be easy points. What a dumby! He  
couldn't even measure the correct amount of batter into a muffin tin!  
Hahahahaha.  
  
Wow. I need coffee.  
  
I stretched, yawned, and made my way into the kitchen, where  
three house elves were scurrying around, making my father's Tuesday  
breakfast. Explanation: Father wrote up a schedule in which every  
morning, there is a designated breakfast item. Monday is Marion berry  
pancake day, Tuesday is Twenty Ounce steak with eggs day, and so on.  
He's a very creative man. I had not the heart to tell the elves that  
father probably would not be feeling up to his steak. They feel wanted  
when they have goals.  
  
"Hey!" I screamed.  
  
All of them turned around, wide-eyed.  
  
"Yes, young master?" inquired the first.  
  
You wants anything?" asked the second.  
  
"We make you fried potatoes and ham! We make you buttered  
toast! We make you waffles with a fried egg! What be it?" the tallest  
one, Lobby, wanted to know, with a deep bow. (He has problems.)  
  
I shook my head. "None of that, you scummy lunch bag. I'd like  
atripleshotdoublegrandealmondmochawithaddedmilk, andnofoam."  
  
He bowed even more deeply. "So sorry, sir, so sorry. We is out  
of the almond syrup until we goes shopping today, would master like to  
try coconut?"  
  
I sighed sadly. "Sure, sure. Just get me my coffee. Oh, what's  
the point in living with such bad service! All I wanted was almond  
flavoring- is that such a hard thing to get? Sometimes I feel like  
dying..."  
  
"Sir, never mind. So sorry we requested that. We will got out  
and get some right now," Lobby exclaimed dramatically.  
  
Works every time.  
  
8:01 AM  
  
By this time, my coffee was finished, and I was thinking about  
what I could do next in Operation Saving Prefect Granger.  
  
So far, I had found her workplace, thanks to scary Gavin, and I  
knew she where she lived. These were both very important things, but I  
needed to know how to use them in my plan.  
  
I decided that today, I should buy some nice flowers and leave  
them at Hermy's door. This would cause her to wonder whether Neville  
or Ron sent them. That would cause her to decide that one of them must  
have, and treat him better for it. That would cause the other to feel  
extremely depressed and commit suicide by stuffing his wand in his  
nose. Then there would only be one left. It was a glorious plan.  
  
No, seriously. Think about it. She gets flowers, she decides one  
of them must like her better and this causes some tension. Then, I  
begin sending her chocolates or some sweet she likes, but I sign these  
with something mysterious, like 'a blonde rich son of a Voldemort  
follower who ended up in jail but pretended he went mad and now we  
have him back, oh jolly good, now he can continue yelling at me and  
grinning wickedly at me and making my mother call him strange names  
like 'Master' or 'Professor Malfoy, I've lost my way in the corridor,  
can you tell me where the common room is' as they're- yes, I've heard  
you, you're both rather loud and many a night I've prayed that I will  
get through without getting sick and...'  
  
Whoa.  
  
A bit off track, there. But what else can you do on National  
Insult Father Day? Just kidding.  
  
Not. He deserves it.  
  
Anyway, I will make her see that I am neither Nerdville Dorkarse  
or Ronaldo Weaselface, I am Mysterious. I am Sexy.  
  
I'm the one that you want. Woo woo woo.  
  
...  
  
Apparently coffee doesn't cure everything. 


	14. Like a Muggle Horror Film

*AN: Hi! It's me. I just keep forgetting to do a little disclaimer  
thing.. I lied in the beginning- I do own something! Zoë and Lone are  
mine (they will be introduced soon) and Gavin Georgeson belongs to me!  
  
GAVIN: Pssshh! You forgot me?  
  
ME: Sorry!  
  
GAVIN: All right, first I lose my boyfriend and then you forget about-  
  
ME: -Just be quiet. The good people want to read the chapter.  
  
GAVIN: You may have created me, but you don't own me! Mwa hahahaha!  
  
ME: Do you WANT to be in this story again any time soon?  
  
::Silence::  
  
And, finally...  
  
~*~*~*~*~CHAPTER FOURTEEN~*~*~*~*~  
  
2:15 PM. STANDING OUTSIDE.... Bum bum bum...  
  
JORDAN AND SONS, FLOWER SHOP.  
  
It was a fairly large building, next to the fudge shop in Diagon  
Alley. From the outside, it looked promising. There were large, moving  
apparitions: a bouquet that put itself together and wrapped a bow  
'round itself before bursting into tiny hearts, petals that fell from  
the awning down to the cobblestone walk, and doves flying back and  
forth, calling to each other.  
  
Romantic crap that Hermione would (hopefully) adore. I had  
written her address on a piece of parchment and stuck it inside my  
pocket that morning. I was ready.  
  
I stepped inside the store, and looked around. There were  
flowers everywhere, with a shelf full of chocolate boxes and stuffed  
animals. Bertie Botts Every Flavor Beans came in giant tins as well as  
little sacks, and there were cards for every occasion. I was just  
about to pick up a card from the slot labeled 'Naughty', when-  
  
"What can I help you with?" a loud voice exclaimed.  
  
I turned around, and found myself looking into the eyes of a  
short black guy with poofy dreadlocks and very white teeth.  
  
"Lee Jordan?" I questioned, remembering a guy from Hogwarts who  
was pretty crazy and looked just about the same, except shorter.  
  
The man laughed. "Nope, but don't worry. I get that all the  
time. I'm Lee's twin, Lone. I transferred to Beaux Batons when I was  
in first year, because they were starting a new program that helped  
Squibs get on track."  
  
Squib?  
  
I glared at him.  
  
He shifted, laughing nervously. "I'm cured now!" he blurted out  
triumphantly.  
  
"Well, thank Lord Voldemort for that," I said crisply.  
  
At the name, he tried to fake a smile. "Uhhh- you know my  
brother, sir? Maybe you'd better let him help you!" He edged backward  
and shouted," LEE! YOU COVER THIS ONE, MAN!"  
  
He ran to the back door of the shop, and shut it behind him.  
  
It happens.  
  
"What's going on? Oh... Malfoy." Lee appeared from behind a case  
of roses. "What do you want?"  
  
"Is that how you treat your customers?" I smirked.  
  
"Not usually. What do you want, and make it quick. I'm goin' on  
lunch in five." He pointed to his watch.  
  
I ambled forward. "Oh, Jordan. Don't you want to reminisce?" I  
held out my arms dramatically, sneering. " The years we shared...  
Remember all of the times Slytherin beat Gryffindor at quidditch, or  
how about when your two loserly, poor best friends dropped out to open  
a stupid joke shop? Ah, yes, those were the days."  
  
To my surprise, Jordan just smiled right back. "Did you 'ear  
what he said about you?" he yelled to what appeared to be a closet.  
  
Is he insane?, I wondered.  
  
"Yes," replied the closet," though it is quite hard to hear in  
this thing. Did he say 'loserly' AND 'poor'?"  
  
"Think he did," the closet agreed.  
  
The door creaked open, and out came two red-haired guys, each  
clutching brooms.  
  
"Hullo, Malfoy, old chap!" shouted one, coming over and cuffing  
me merrily on the shoulder.  
  
"How's the evilness going?" inquired the other, picking up my  
hand and giving me a brisk shake.  
  
"Off me!" I commanded, backing up. Lee Jordan grinned.  
  
One of the twins, whom I took to be Fred for no particular  
reason except that when he shook my hand I noticed he wore a gold ring  
that had the initials FW on it, stared at me. "Uncanny."  
  
I eyed him. "What's that, Weasley?"  
  
"You look just like him."  
  
Lee nodded. "He does indeed."  
  
"Scary," shivered the one who seemed to be George.  
  
"WHAT?" I demanded. "WHO?"  
  
"Where?" asked Fred.  
  
"When?" inquired George.  
  
"Why?" mused Jordan, scratching his chin.  
  
"In't obvious, then?" George answered me. "You look exactly like  
your mad old daddy."  
  
My face burned. "I do not!" I hollered.  
  
"Even more so now."  
  
I took in an angry breath. "Look, Weasley... Er.. Weasleys, I  
don't have time to play games with flea-bitten Muggle lovers."  
  
Fred laughed. "An' he took that line straight from his father,  
too! That's what good old Lucius called Dad that time in the book  
store, before Dad kicked the stuffing out of his tarty face!"  
  
"Do tell me you're kidding!" I declared. "My father gave yours a  
mean bruise he'd never forget, and he was quicker with his words- you  
know it! Your father's pride was hurt because he works as a little  
idiot dusting off Muggle teapots and mine gave him what for!"  
  
"Didn't Lucius go mad?" questioned Jordan, rudely ignoring the  
truth of my words.  
  
"Oh, yes!" George grinned. "As a loon, didn't he, dearest  
Draco?"  
  
"Does he sit in corners and rock back and forth, wearing your  
mother's underwear?" Fred asked, interested.  
  
"NEVER talk about my mother's underwear again!" I screamed.  
  
"Was it the pair you got her?" asked George.  
  
"WHAAAT?"  
  
Fred, George, and Lee burst into hysterical laughter.  
  
Fred snorted. "Hermione Granger told us that you were shopping  
at the little panty-shop downtown Diagon, and you were buying sexy  
things for your folks. Perverts, are they?"  
  
"Y- I mean, no! Mother just gave me a list, and all that it had  
was- pajama stuff, and-"  
  
"Tell us, Malfoy. Was it for you?" whispered George.  
  
"OH, DAMN IT ALL!" I shouted. "NO! NO! IT WAS NOT FOR ME! LEAVE  
ME ALONE! JUST HELP ME PICK OUT A BLOODY BOUQUET AND LET ME GET THE  
HELL OUT OF HERE! OH BLOODY, MISERABLE HELL!!!"  
  
All three of them stared at me, open-mouthed.  
  
Fred turned to Lee. "I think he's bonkers, too," he whispered.  
  
"RAAAAAHHHHHHH!!!" I screamed.  
  
"Harassing the customers again, are you?" came yet another  
voice. "I told dad the three of you together on the same shift was  
quite stupid."  
  
A girl of about twenty-five walked toward our little group. If  
my mouth wasn't dry from shouting, I would have whistled loud and  
clear. She was extremely gorgy, with night-coloured skin and short  
hair. "All right, mate, whatchu need, then?" she demanded.  
  
"Right.. I'm looking for a bouquet that will say 'You are so  
hot, I want you'. Do you think you can help me..." I looked at her  
name tag. "Zoë?"  
  
She grinned. "Sorry, bloke. Don't think you're my type."  
  
I paled. "I meant-"  
  
"-I know, mate. Just kidding! But you aren't, y'know?" Zoë  
smiled wryly and laughed.  
  
"Meet my cousin," Jordan nodded, gesturing to the woman.  
  
"You're all just a bundle of fun," I snapped, a bit hurt that I  
could ever be told that I was not someone's type. Who would resist  
Draco L. Malfoy? No one.  
  
This girl must be a compulsive liar.  
  
The Terror Twins and Jordy took a break from harassing me to let  
Zoë tend to my flowering needs. After I answered some questions about  
Hermione's personality (not revealing her name, of course), we decided  
upon white roses (classy and sophisticated) in a bouquet with a dark  
blue (independent) ribbon. When she picked them up, they would explode  
into a bunch of hearts, like the flowers showcased in the window, and  
then appear again, ready to be put in a vase.  
  
After I had paid, I could not help but inquire about the twins'  
joke shop business, which must have gone dry.  
  
"So, Fred," I began, nodding to the one with the ring.  
  
"I'm not Fred. He is," he stated.  
  
"What? Then why in the heck do you have a ring with the initials  
FW?"  
  
He chuckled. "Because it's funny!"  
  
I sighed. "Anyhow!!! GEORGE, then. How is your joke business  
going? You know, the one you left school for?" I reminded. "It seems  
to me, not to be rude or anything, but it seems to me like it must be  
suffering quite badly... You know, with you working at a-" I dropped  
my voice- "family- owned flower shop, n'all."  
  
The twins looked at each other and grinned.  
  
"Actually," replied the real Fred," it's going excellently. If  
you didn't notice, my ring (which George is wearing) is made of real  
gold. And take a look at this watch, Malfoy, you little snot!" He  
laughed. "I'm not showing off, but you've underestimated the power of  
jokes. Business sky-rocketed when we first began and it's even busier  
now. We have five businesses in different parts of Britain, and soon,  
our first American location will be opening in Salem."  
  
It was now the time for MY mouth to hang open. Rich Weasleys?  
Couldn't be. It was unheard of! Preposterous! Horrible!  
  
I snorted. "If business is going so well, then answer my first  
question? Why are you working here?"  
  
Lee shifted from his place against the wall. "They've got enough  
employees to cover for them, right? And when we had a shortage in  
workers, they agreed to join the Jordan family team!"  
  
"Oh, I'm touched!" George cried. Fred sniffled into a  
handkerchief.  
  
"And," Zoë continued from where Jordan left off," we exchange  
and work for them. If you didn't notice, this business is thriving,  
too." She smirked at me. "Now, sir, where will this bouquets be  
going?"  
  
"Excuse me?"  
  
"I need the address, Mr. Malfoy."  
  
Oh, no. I had to think, and fast. What would the Weasley twins  
do if they knew that I was sending flowers to Hermione? They would  
tell Ron, that's what! Tell Ron, or TELL HERMIONE!! No.. NO! ANYTHING  
BUT THAT! It would ruin the plan, defy the purpose, totally shatter  
the beautiful Saving Prefect Granger. I could not let that happen.  
  
"Uh.. I'm going to deliver it by hand!" I exclaimed, deciding  
quickly that Hermione must be at work anyhow, so it would not matter.  
  
Zoë looked confused. "Why would you do that? I thought this was  
anonymous?"  
  
"It is! She's at work!"  
  
"All right... "she trailed off, handing me the plastic-wrapped  
bouquet.  
  
George winked. "So, who is she, Malfoy?"  
  
"No one you know," I lied briskly, turning to leave.  
  
"Is he gone?" inquired Lone, peeking out from the back area.  
  
That was when I realised it.  
  
"Oh my..." I trailed off. "Twins! TWINS!" I shrieked, pointing  
frantically.  
  
When I looked to my left, I saw Fred and George, smiling in just  
the same way. When I looked to my right, I saw Lee Jordan, and Lone  
behind him, and they looked JUST alike! ALL TWINS!  
  
In terror, I ran from the shop. It was just like a Muggle horror  
film, I'm telling you.  
  
3:16. IN FRONT OF HERMIONE'S APARTMENT COMPLEX WITH FLOWERS IN HAND.  
  
'Draco,' I said to myself, sneering. 'You are a genius, and she  
will ADORE you.'  
  
I walked up the stone steps to the porch, which had an emerald  
green doormat and a rectangular postbox attached to the wall, so the  
owls would have easy access, I suppose.  
  
I looked into the side window, leaning over the edge of the  
stone porch railing. Good. No one in sight. I placed the flowers  
upright in the mailbox, whistling loudly.  
  
The door rattled.  
  
"Aaaaah!" I hollered, and grabbed the flowers, putting them  
behind my back, and edging to the side.  
  
There came the sound of keys jangling, and a voice shouted,"  
OY!"  
  
And it was no female voice.  
  
The door swung open. A man peeked out. "OY! What're you doing?"  
  
"Ummmm... Do you live here?" I inquired, backing up.  
  
He paused. "I believe I know you," he stated pompously. He  
stepped out of the doorway.  
  
That was when I recognized the voice. I hadn't heard it for  
nearly three years. I looked at him a moment, and between the ironed  
suit pants, the crisp, white shirt and the gray tie, I realized  
something:  
  
"I believe I know you, too." 


	15. Defect Prefect

~*~*~*~*~CHAPTER SIXTEEN~*~*~*~*~  
  
3:18. UHHHHH...  
  
I stuffed the flowers into my jacket.  
  
I had to think for a moment.  
  
"Peter Weasley...?" I asked slowly.  
  
He snorted, rubbing a hand through his tousled red hair, looking  
positively annoyed. "It's PER-CY. PER-CY, right? It isn't that hard to  
forget, Malcoy."  
  
I stared at him.  
  
"I know you remember my name, Weasley. Don't try to fake it."  
Honestly. How sad is that?  
  
"Fair enough." He eyed me tentatively.  
  
While he was busy glaring daggers at my face, I thought to  
myself how lucky I was to run into three Weasleys in one day. Nott-  
notty- NOT! It was actually sending shivers up my spine. I also  
wondered how Operation Saving Prefect Granger went wrong. It was the  
same apartment building, same mailbox, same garbage can out in  
front... The only thing wrong about it was the man.  
  
The Percy-ish Man.  
  
"What are you doing here?" I burst out, boggled.  
  
He looked at me with a kind of Ex-Prefect amusement. ( May I  
add a note? Good.) *I know that I myself was, indeed, a Prefect in my  
late years at Hogwarts. This means I am good, very good. And extremely  
smart. But don't get this confused with being A Prefect. Our Peter is  
one of this clan. You see, he has this sort of Prefect aroma, and you  
can sense him coming down the hall. He's got The Expression of A  
Prefect, The Look of A Prefect (EX: ironed suit pants, the crisp,  
white shirt and the gray tie), and The Attitude of A Prefect. He  
cannot be confused with we cooler and less geekwaddish types. Thank  
you for your patience.*  
  
He chuckled lightly. "Are you daft, Draco Malfoy? Yes, I live  
here. Now, what are you doing here, lurking about like a fiend?"  
  
I narrowed my eyes. "I'm no fiend. I was-"  
  
For a split second, I debated about what to tell this guy.  
Definitely not the truth, of course. But what, then? Wrong address?  
Memory- loss? Looking for my father? ("Sorry, but I've lost my pap!  
Seen a rather bad-tempered pansy of a man with pretty womanly hair and  
a posh accent that drones?" Hee hee.)  
  
-" I was mistaken about the address," I told him politely. "Nice  
to see you again, Peter."  
  
Just as I was about to turn around, a scary thing happened.  
  
"You little ass!" The Prefect shouted gruffly, and grabbed me by  
the arm. "I hate you! I've always hated you! I couldn't do anything  
about it before. But you know what? I think it's time you learned your  
lesson."  
  
"OH MY LORD!" I screamed, not sure about what my lesson would be  
(or why I deserved one, for that matter), but after The Day Ron Went  
Postal, I didn't want to see this. I tried to wrench away, but he had  
me in A Prefect Death Grip. "MURDER! RAPE! FIRE!" I shouted hopefully,  
but the only person on the stupid street was a dowdy old woman who  
looked, smiled, and kept walking.  
  
Percy loosened The Grip. "What on earth are you shrieking  
about?"  
  
I tried to look terrified. Maybe he'd take mercy on me. "You're  
going to kill me! You're going to kill me and I don't know why!"  
  
Percy leaned over and screamed straight in my ear," YOU ARE SUCH  
AN IDIOT!"  
  
"Ow," I replied.  
  
He rolled his eyes. "Look, all I want you to do is apologise for  
everything you've done to me, my family, and everyone else at  
Hogwarts."  
  
Apologise!? For things I never did!? Was this guy insane!?  
  
"FLOOD!" I yelled. It was my last resort.  
  
The old woman was now three feet ahead of where she'd been last  
time, as she turned around and nodded. "Certainly, dear. It's almost  
three- thirty."  
  
I stared blankly with my mouth open for a second, and then  
turned back to Percy. "YOU look: I never did anything to you. I think  
you're self- conscious. I shouldn't have to apologise because your  
years at Hogwarts sucked badly. And I shouldn't have to make amends  
because you had a falling out with your family and they hate you."  
  
Percy's face reddened. "That's exactly what I mean," he  
whispered loudly. "You never think before you talk. You really get on  
people's nerves sometimes, you know? That's why people hate you. And,  
Malfoy, I know that your father is in and out of the mental  
institution, so don't try to make my family look weird!"  
  
I looked at him in exclamation. "Look, I know it's National  
Insult Your Father Day, but that means YOUR father! You're allowed to  
insult YOUR father, hence, 'Insult YOUR Father Day'! NOT MY FATHER!" I  
screamed.  
  
He looked blank. "What in the world are you on about?"  
  
I shrugged, calm once more. "Don't ask."  
  
He cocked an auburn eyebrow. "Ummm.. Okay. But see how you react  
when other people state things about your life? You don't like it very  
much. And we don't like it either."  
  
"I don't know what you're talking about."  
  
"You are really depressing me, you know that?" he responded.  
"Would you like to come in?"  
  
I gawked for a moment, before I regained my poise. "What? Oh, no  
thank you." What a wet fool. Come into a Weasley's apartment? I  
suddenly understood Father's point about getting an apartment. A lot  
of pathetic little fools had them.  
  
"Malfoy, I hate to say it, but you have no choice," he smiled,  
and pushed me inside the doorway before I could do a blasted thing.  
  
I was too shocked to react resourcefully. Members of The Prefect  
Clan are not supposed to act this way. They are not allowed to ransom  
people, and they are not supposed to force people into houses which  
are not Hermione's.  
  
"You're no Prefect!" I managed to shout. "You are a defect!"  
  
So began a very strange experience.  
  
***  
  
The apartment was coloured in dark red hues and had ugly brown  
shag carpet. The decor was that of Victorian elegance, and in the  
corner, there was a chessboard, upon which a game was in progress.  
Nothing in sight said "Hermione". Nothing in sight even said "Herm".  
Everything said "Perfect Prude-ish Percy Weasley." And some of it  
simply said "Perce."  
  
"I'll call the Ministry on you, you sick bugger!" I cried. "This  
is against the law! You're kidnapping me to fulfill your sick  
fantasies! You're a terrible, horrible, sickening slob!" (Slob wasn't  
really the right word for the situation, but my mind was not in a  
correct state.)  
  
Percy tutted. "At least you have something going for you, Malfoy-  
an overactive imagination, is what. You can whine to the Ministry all  
you wish, but I work there, and I am a highly esteemed individual."  
  
"You turned evil! You tried to murder Harry Potter!" I bellowed.  
"DON'T THINK I DON'T REMEMBER!"  
  
Percy rolled his eyes. "Where have you been, Draco? I am  
humiliated to think about the trouble I caused, but I was Corneilius  
Fudge's zombie, practically. He had been threatened by Bartimus Crouch  
Sr., after the ordeal with the embodiment of Professor Moody. They  
used me as one of their minions to try and bring poor Harry down. That  
was what caused the stir with my family. It all ended when my father  
discovered what was going on. I felt terrible about falling into the  
Crouch's power.. I never thought..." he paused, sighing. "But  
everything is the way it was before. Harry and I are great friends  
now. He comes over often to play chess." He gestured to the board in  
the corner.  
  
Awww. What a sob-inducing tale! Don't think I'm stupid, though.  
I knew all of this before. I was just trying to cause a distraction,  
so I could leave. No such luck. I suppose I'll have to make my  
thoughts known, then.  
  
"There was NOTHING wrong with Corneilius Fudge, and I think it's  
wrong that you and your crazy family accused him of causing chaos in  
the Ministry. He's in Azkaban now! And as for the Crouches, there's  
NOTHING wrong with them either. Their son nearly killed some people  
and was going to die, so they saved him! I think that's nice! But you  
don't see it! You only see your side of it, and let me tell you  
something: YOU ARE WRONG!" With that said, I sat down gingerly in one  
of the antique dining room chairs.  
  
Percy laughed out loud. "I thought you were just close-minded,  
but you are full-blown insane!" He went into his open kitchen, and put  
on the tea kettle. Great! Just what I need! Flavored sewer water with  
cheap cookies!  
  
"I am NOT insane," I snapped.  
  
"You are if you believe all of that dragon dung you just  
blabbered off to me. But if I may state my opinion, I think your  
little daddy paid you off to act like he and his baneful friends were  
right, and the victims were wrong."  
  
I sneered at him. "You don't even know! It wasn't my father who  
paid me! It was my mother."  
  
Time seemed to stop right then.  
  
Oops. I don't think I was supposed to reveal that little tidbit  
of information. I don't think that I am supposed to give any  
indication that I think what my parents do is wrong.  
  
I felt my eyes get wide.  
  
"I mean-"  
  
"HAAA HAAA!" Percy guffawed, pointing at me with an oven mitt  
shaped like a Kappa. "I KNEW IT! I KNEW IT FROM THE FIRST MOMENT I MET  
YOU!" He took a breath. "My dad warned me about you Malfoys! How you  
were Pure-blooded, Muggle-hating, rich snobs who tried to force every  
single member of their family into believing in their rules which had  
been passed down from generation to generation! My dad's hypothesis  
was that soon, a generation would go wrong, and the Malfoys would  
never be the same." He walked out of the kitchen and sat across from  
me, staring at me with crazy eyes.  
  
"And it's you." He said softly. "It has to be you."  
  
I swallowed.  
  
"I watched you the very first day you came to Hogwarts. I heard  
what your mother said to you. She was talking rather loudly and rudely  
so everyone around her could hear. 'Draco, remember to follow the  
rules. Remember who we hate. Don't converse with Mudbloods, the  
Weasleys are trash, insanity runs in the Longbottom family no matter  
what they say, and most of all...' That was when she leaned into your  
ear, but I knew later that it had to do with something about Harry  
Potter. What was it about, Draco?"  
  
I stared at Percy Weasley in shock. How could he remember that  
instance for so long? It stood out in my mind, sure, but I had no idea  
anyone watching analyzed it that closely. This guy WAS pretty scary.  
But for some reason, I decided to answer.  
  
"First of all, my mother does NOT talk loudly OR rudely. Second  
of all, her EXACT words were that you Weasleys are 'foolish, sadly  
poor, filthy, guttersnipes who are the definition of the word trash'.  
And she was indeed speaking to me about Harry Potter, but that's Top  
Secret," I declared. Thinks he's so big and bad!  
  
"I'll wager it was about the Prophecy," he guessed.  
  
"NO," I yelled.  
  
He stared at me.  
  
"Well, yes," I said meekly. "She said that Harry Potter was  
going to overthrow their lord and that I should stick to the plan that  
they designed for me which was to make Harry Potter look like a stupid  
idiot and get everyone to hate him so it would be easy to overthrow  
him... But she didn't know that I'd all ready met him in Madame  
Malkin's robe shop in Diagon Alley, and I thought he was rather nice.  
So, I tried to befriend him, but for some reason, it didn't work. I  
began to despise him because, obviously, he thought he was too good  
for me. I tried to go through with the plan after that, but it didn't  
work. Everyone loved him," I said in a sour voice.  
  
"And you did, as well!" Percy replied.  
  
I banged my fist on the table. "I AM NOOOOT GAAAAAY!"  
  
"I didn't mean it like that, Draco!" Percy exclaimed, looking  
horrified.  
  
"Sure. All right." I stated hotly. "I'm tired of sitting here  
with you. You act like you know me perfectly! You don't know me! You  
can't judge me! Shut up, shut up!" I stood up briskly, which was a bad  
idea, because after I had banged upon the table, the flower bouquet  
must have loosened in my jacket. When I stood up, it fell through to  
the floor. Whoosh!  
  
Percy peered underneath the table. "What's this?"  
  
I snatched up the flowers and hid them behind my back, fully  
aware I had shamed my family enough in the past five minutes.  
"Nothing. And I'm leaving now."  
  
"You hand those over to me right now, or I swear I'll send a  
letter right away to Lucius Malfoy, letting him know that his brat  
doesn't abide by the Malfoy rules like he should."  
  
I bit my lip. Should I or shouldn't I? Should I or shouldn't I?  
  
I slowly handed over the flowers.  
  
Percy smiled darkly. "How sweet. Were these for m-" His eyes  
flickered over the name on the tag. "Holy Godric Gryffindor!" he  
shouted.  
  
"Shut up," I whispered, and I'll admit that I was actually  
blushing.  
  
The plan was over. Ruined. Smashed. Gone. Dead. Decaying in its  
small grave. Burned up. Broken...  
  
He looked at me, and finally cleared his throat. "You're an  
apple that landed further from the tree than I thought. Hermione? As  
in Hermione Granger? As in Hermione, the Muggle-born? As in cute,  
smart, and talented Hermione Granger?"  
  
"Yes, yes," I sighed glumly. "All that."  
  
...Torn to pieces. Sawed in half. Shot through the heart. Avada-  
kadavraed...  
  
"Wait... Are you trying to make her think that she has an  
anonymous lover and then break her heart?"  
  
"She's smarter than that. Give the woman some credit!" I  
snarled.  
  
"Are you trying to pull some prank?"  
  
"NO," I growled. "I'm a disgrace to the Malfoy family, I should  
say a prayer to Lord Voldemort for hope and courage, and I should  
change my ways. Just say it."  
  
Percy pointed to the chair again. I sat.  
  
"What game are you playing here?" he said sternly in a voice  
that I had only heard in dark corridors in the middle of the night.  
(Don't get bad ideas, you! Sheesh, what a pervert you can be!)  
  
I sighed in anger. "It's NOT a game. It's SERIOUS. Hermione is  
in a bit of a dilemma and I'm here to help her out."  
  
"Are you calling my little brother a 'dilemma'?" Percy inquired.  
  
"Sort of," I replied. "That's all I'm going to say."  
  
So, Percy went on. "Well, he is a bit of a problem. He  
won't forgive Harry for- well, for not telling him something and-  
"  
  
"I know, I know." I feigned a yawn. "I know all about  
that. I don't care what happens between those two. My problem is  
Ron, Neville, and Hermione." ( I don't like the sound of that.)  
  
Percy glowered. I was beginning to realise he is good at  
that. "What do you want her for? Because she hates you, if you  
didn't notice."  
  
I slowly hit my head on the table many times.  
  
"Oy! Why are doing that?" Percy questioned.  
  
I lifted my face from the table. "No, I didn't notice!" I  
snapped in sarcasm. "I NEVER NOTICED!"  
  
Percy chuckled. "You don't notice many things, do you?"  
  
"Don't you know what sarcasm is?" I cried.  
  
He blinked.  
  
Oh dear.  
  
"Anyway, yes! I picked up on the fact that she isn't too  
keen on me at the moment. But, I don't like to think that way. I  
think positively. She absolutely loves me," I smiled.  
  
"See? There's something else that's wrong with you," Percy  
pointed out. So this is what it's like to have an older  
brother, I suppose. I wasn't enjoying it very much. "You act  
like everything is fine and dandy but it just isn't. It can't  
be! Your father is crazy, your mother is a snot, and you-"  
  
"Shut up, Weasley!" I declared. "I didn't come here to be  
lectured and sassed. You know my secret. I love a Mudblood."  
  
Percy leaned forward. "Tell me this then: Why?"  
  
Why? Because...  
  
Because she is lovely, and gorgy, and her hair is straight  
and I want to touch it and she's so damn beautiful!  
  
"Why should you be interested?"  
  
Percy rolled his eyes. "You didn't like her back in  
school. That's all."  
  
"It's different now," I shrugged.  
  
"You mean because SHE LOOKS different now!" he burst out.  
"You're only attracted to her because you think she looks better-  
is that it?"  
  
"Well-" I burst out.  
  
"Malfoy, I thought you were different for a minute or so.  
Now I see that you're just a pig like the rest of the snooty  
little rich hunkies in the world that think they're SO keen and  
wonderful because they've got money!"  
  
I shook my head. "NO! I will prove you wrong! This is NOT  
to just get a hot babe! Trust me, if it was, I wouldn't be  
risking my life! I would just stick with Pansy-"  
  
Percy burst out laughing. "YOU THINK SHE'S HOT!?  
HAHAHAHAA! The little puggy girl!? HAHAHAA!"  
  
"The little what?"  
  
"HAHAHAHA!"  
  
I narrowed my eyes. "So we have different taste," I  
snapped.  
  
"Obviously! HAHAHAAHAHA!"  
  
I sighed. "Anyway! I used to think that all I wanted was  
to just inherit Father's money, find a nice position at Saint  
Mungo's, and have a little trophy wife who would just stare  
adoringly at me... But when I saw Hermione in the lingerie  
store"- (Percy blinked)-"don't ask... But when I saw her, I  
realised that I had always found her kind of annoying- IN A GOOD  
WAY! The kind of way you don't forget about. And she DOES look  
quite good, but also, she's GOT BRAINS and that's something my  
current girlfriend lacks."  
  
Percy nodded. "Good enough. I hope you do know though,  
that Hermione isn't going to fall for you overnight. Right now,  
she's convinced you're the most horrible, mean twit ever to  
cross this earth. On top of that, she's got two blokes that are  
head over heels in love with her- and they always have been. It  
didn't take any waxings, hair cuts, or makeovers to get them to  
fall in love with her."  
  
"No offense, Peter, but your brother and Neville  
Longbottom aren't really competition to me," I grinned,  
stretching my arms.  
  
"That's where you're wrong. Hermione loves both of them,  
and although they don't have the money you do, you don't have  
the compassion that they do."  
  
"Yet."  
  
Percy looked at me. "Are you seriously wanting to get  
involved in this?"  
  
"Weasley: I have so much boredom in my life that I just  
don't care anymore," I told him honestly. "If it works, it  
works. If it doesn't- well, there's no way that it won't."  
  
He shook his head. "Are you sure that you can handle this  
alone, because I don't think you can."  
  
"Don't be stupid. I've come this far."  
  
"What I'm saying is, I'll help you if you want it."  
  
I stared at him. "You'll what? I thought you were just  
going to pretend to be al friendly and then go snitch on me to  
your brother!"  
  
Percy shrugged. "It seems that's what I should do. I mean,  
I should support my brother, but for some reason, I think I  
should help you."  
  
"Just like that?"  
  
"Just as crazy as you loving Hermione," he responded,  
which I must admit was pretty good.  
  
"How will you help me, though?"  
  
Percy got up to turn off the teapot, which was screaming  
its head off. "There's a lot you must do. You have to gain  
approval from all the people close to Hermione. You have to be  
respectful of her friends, and show that you aren't such an  
ass."  
  
"But I am!" I clamored.  
  
"You try, but you fail." He smiled from the kitchen. "Will  
you agree to show your soft side? I've seen it today, Malfoy, no  
matter how convinced you are that you are bad. We don't like bad  
people in our group, and if you don't start to tell the truth,  
you will never get within fifteen feet of Hermione."  
  
I got up. "But what about my father? What about both my  
parents, and their stupid rules?" I was beginning to realise  
that there was more to this plan. I could ignore my parents'  
wishes, but my father could get scary when angered. And this  
just might be the thing to make him go SERIOUSLY mad.  
  
"I don't know, Draco. You'll have to tell them sometime,  
but for now, it would be stupid to make a scene now. You don't  
even know if you love her."  
  
I didn't say anything. He could say that if he wanted to,  
but now, I was convinced that I would prove to the world that  
this Malfoy was not like the rest.  
  
I entered the kitchen, my face serious. "Promise me you  
won't trick me. I hope this isn't some revenge ploy so you can  
feel good about yourself."  
  
"No," he scoffed. "you didn't make that big of an  
impression on me. Shake on it?"  
  
"All right..." I said tentatively. Maybe this Weasley was  
my ticket to Granger. If anything, it was interesting. Percy  
wasn't as much of A Prefect as I thought. He was extremely  
strange. On a Malfoy's side? My father would throw a tantrum.  
But I am eighteen, and I cannot have him running my life  
anymore.  
  
I shook Percy's Kappa-less hand. It could make or break  
Saving Prefect Granger.  
  
"Wait a second!" I cried. Percy almost dropped the tray of  
tea he had just made.  
  
"What?" he yelled.  
  
"I saw Hermione come into this house! That's why I came  
here with the flowers! What are you doing here? YOU'RE DATING  
HER AND NOW YOU KNOW MY PLAN! CHEEK!" I screamed, my heart  
beating, as I discovered what was really happening.  
  
He set down the tea tray. "Malfoy. No. Stop. SHUT UP! I am  
NOT dating her! We are very good friends, and I rented out my  
spare room to her so she could work in Diagon and attend school!  
Lord, you're not even close to dating her and you're as jealous  
as Ron!"  
  
For a reason unknown to me, I believed him. I smiled and  
nodded.  
  
Wow! I am really in Hermione's house! Maybe the chair I  
sat in was hers!  
  
"How did you know where she lived in the first place?"  
  
"Oh... Long story."  
  
He nodded. "I understand."  
  
"So, when are we going to start?" I inquired.  
  
"I'll have to think up a few plans, you know. I'm just on  
a break from work today. I've been working on a couple of  
projects at home." He nodded toward a pile of papers upon his  
dining room table.  
  
"Percy," I began," why are you helping me?"  
  
"Malfoy," Percy snickered," you need it." I noticed he  
looked away briefly after answering, but forgot instantly.  
  
I glowered. "You're really annoying, you know."  
  
"Yes, but now I know all of your secrets. So don't try my  
nerves," he smirked.  
  
He was right. I was now officially stuck with a Weasley.  
Kill me now. But if Saving Prefect Granger actually worked, I  
would finally have something worthwhile in my weird life.  
  
I glared at him. "Defect Prefect," I muttered, heading for  
the door.  
  
"Don't you want any tea?"  
  
"Sorry. I'm really bewildered by all of this, so I'm going  
to go." I paused. "Thank you though.. But don't think this means  
that I love your family or anything, because that is bloody  
insane."  
  
"No problem, Malfoy. How about this Saturday, at noon?  
Lunch at Magic Palace in Diagon Alley?"  
  
I stared at him. "For what?"  
  
"For first meeting, idiot. Define your goals, and I'll  
help you."  
  
I nodded. "Oh. All right. Let me write you in." I took out  
my groovy little planner and told it the date and time. "See you  
then," I said, still cursing myself for telling Percy my  
deepest secrets. (Well, not all the details of them, but  
sketches anyway.)  
  
He nodded. "And I'll be certain Hermione gets your  
flowers."  
  
"Not a word," I hissed.  
  
"I promise! I promise! You need to learn to trust people."  
  
"Is EVERYTHING wrong with me? Don't answer that," I added,  
but I knew that nothing was wrong with Draco Malfoy. Or was  
there something? HOLY LORD VOLDEMORT! PERCY WAS RUBBING OFF ON  
ME! NOW I'M FEELING INSECURE! Shut up, you've always been  
insecure! NO, I HAVEN'T!  
  
I need coffee. 


	16. New Medication

~*~*~CHAPTER SIXTEEN~*~*~  
  
5:47 PM. HOME... IF THAT'S WHAT YOU CALL IT. JUST STEPPED  
OUT OF THE FIREPLACE.  
  
"Draco, son! So nice to see you!"  
  
I walked out into the foyer, completely dazed. Was that my  
father's voice, or had my mother found a Latin lover? I  
squinted. Sure enough, there stood Lucius in his best silk  
robes, smiling at me.  
  
"So nice to... see you as well?" I replied, a distinct  
quaver in my voice. Had he found out about the plan all ready?  
Had Weasley contacted him with all the information!? I knew he  
was up to something! Oh dear. I might as well throw myself from  
the fourth story window. Or raid the poison closet. Goodbye,  
world.  
  
But Father's cheery grin did not morph into his normal  
fang-bared frown. It stayed. "Have a nice day at school?"  
  
"I don't have school on Tuesdays." I stared at him. Had he  
gone mad again?  
  
He laughed. "Right you are! What did you do today?"  
  
I blinked.  
  
I had barely gotten home, and he was interested in what  
I'd done today? It normally took him at least two hours to  
notice I was home, and then it took an extra thirty minutes for  
him to gruffly inquire about my day. And he usually didn't stay  
around for the answer.  
  
"I met up unexpectantly with many people whom I didn't  
think existed any more," I shrugged. It was no use explaining  
I'd run into three Weasleys. That might disturb him, and then he  
might go nutsoid. This sudden change of mood really creeped me  
out.  
  
He nodded. "That's very interesting. I spent time with  
your mother. She's a lovely thing, isn't she?"  
  
Now I KNEW he was ward-material. My father NEVER spends  
time with Mother. He's always got things to do, places to go,  
people to see. And she's normally shopping.  
  
Lucius stared at me with his glowing smile and twinkling  
gray eyes.  
  
I had to get out immediately, or I knew I'd soon be  
maimed.  
  
I slowly backed up. "Is Mother here?" I voiced.  
  
"Son, what's the matter?" he questioned moving forward.  
  
"Don't- hurt- me-" I burst out.  
  
"Draco, I don't know what you mean. Can't a father spend  
quality time with his son?" he grinned.  
  
There was that 'spend time' thing again. But this time, it  
had 'quality' in it! AHHHHH!  
  
He advanced on me. "Have you had a hard day?"  
  
I backed up, straight into a corner. "Ah!" I squeaked at  
the sudden impact of the wall. "HEEEELP! SOMEONE!"  
  
"Draco!" he exclaimed.  
  
I shut my eyes and began to wail.  
  
I was going to die and it wasn't my fault.  
  
"WHAT is going on here?" Mother's voice declared from the  
end of the entry way.  
  
I looked up slowly.  
  
Lucius looked mortified. "Narcissa! I was simply asking  
the boy how his day went, and he's acting as though I am a  
monster!"  
  
Mother was clothed in her nicest dark red robes. "Lucy...  
Lucius, dear. Go wait in the dining room. We will be joining you  
in a moment."  
  
Father shot a tragic look at me, but trotted off  
obediently.  
  
She rushed over to me. "I am so sorry!"  
  
"He was being nice to me-eeeee-eee," I managed to get out,  
feeling like rocking back and forth. "What's wrong with him?  
What did you do to Father?"  
  
Narcissa helped me to my feet. "Now, Draco: You must  
understand that I had no idea what affect this would have on  
your daddy. The doctors told me it would make him better..." she  
babbled.  
  
"Are you saying that he's on a NEW type of medication?" I  
questioned.  
  
She nodded miserably. "He was put on it just today. It's  
fortunate I as home when he took his first dose. It makes him  
completely horrible! All day, he followed me around, saying  
absurd things like 'I love you' every five minutes and trying to  
do little things for me like offering to take me shopping and  
such."  
  
This was total chaos. Father, nice?  
  
"He's so unlike himself," she continued. "It's uncanny."  
  
"How do we cure him?" I questioned eagerly.  
  
She looked down. "The medicine will wear off by tomorrow  
morning. It's two pills a day."  
  
"WHAT?"I yelled, horrified. So, I'd be stuck with this  
insane freak for the rest of the night!?  
  
"I know, I know," she murmured, placing her arm upon my  
shoulder. "We'll get through it together."  
  
Oh, please.  
  
I rolled my eyes. "Then, if we have to deal with this,  
let's just get it over with." I admired my enthusiasm. It was a  
'pat yourself on the back' kind of moment.  
  
"What are you doing, Draco?" Mother inquired, giving me a  
strange look.  
  
I slowly pulled my hand from my shoulder. "Nothing..."  
  
6:01 PM. AT THE DINNER TABLE. OH. MY. LORD.  
  
"...so that made me realise that perhaps life wasn't quite  
so bad," commented the man who claimed to be my father in a  
joyful tone of voice.  
  
My father who hates life with a fiery passion.  
  
My father who says life is an unfair bastard when the wind  
messes up his hair.  
  
My father.  
  
"That's so lovely, dear," Mother grinned, and then looked  
at me with an expression of utmost disgust.  
  
Father nodded zealously. "I'm really looking forward to  
group therapy in the morning. I'm certain that my peers would  
appreciate my insight, and perhaps, they too could consider  
stepping out of the darkness."  
  
My fork clattered to the floor.  
  
"Oh, son. Heh, heh! Got to be careful!" Father chortled.  
  
Lobby ran to pick up the piece of fallen silverware.  
  
Lucius jumped up. "Don't trouble yourself! I'll get that!"  
he exclaimed loudly, grabbing the fork and handing it to the  
terrified house elf.  
  
"Sir, sir! I sorry I not quick! I sorry!" squealed the  
elf, bowing so deeply that I swear his nose was squished into  
the polished wood floor.  
  
"Don't dwell on things," Lucius advised him with a cheery  
grin. "Remember, always look on the bright side! There's always  
an up where there's a down! Every cloud has silver lining!"  
  
Then, with absolutely no warning, he lifted the confused  
house elf in the air, and began to twirl and sing: "Darkness  
cannot" - STOMP- "corrupt you! Love will always over-  
cooooome you! Let your spirit soar free from Voldemort! Good"-  
STOMP- "Wizards Win!"  
  
I blinked. This was sacrilegious. My goody DeathEater  
father was singing the protest song from the sixties that  
Dumbledore started, for united "good" wizards, against Lord  
Voldemort. My father normally screamed in agony every time this  
song was even mentioned! And now, here he was, in the Malfoy  
dining room, singing with perfect pitch and stomping in all of  
the appropriate places.  
  
Teenaged Tom Marvolo Riddle, in an enormous portrait that  
hung upon our wall, was huffily flipping the bird at my father.  
Not a good sign. That was my father's favourite piece of art,  
too. He'd be very sad if I told him what old Tom thought of his  
performance.  
  
I can't wait!  
  
After about five minutes of this madness (in which Riddle  
became wholly offended and left the frame muttering in his pishy  
way), my mother came to the rescue by calmly grabbing my father  
and screaming," DON'T DO THIS, LUCIUS! DON'T EMBARRASS ME LIKE  
THIS!"  
  
Lobby fell from my father's hands, and ran away, yelling,"  
AHHHHHHHH!"  
  
We tried to continue dinner, but after that episode, both  
mother and I had had quite enough.  
  
Lucius calmed down a bit later on, but was still extremely  
ecstatic. As mother led him up to their room, he turned around  
and shouted to me," Goodnight, Draco! Sweet dreams! Oh, and by  
the way: A message came to you by owl. It's from a person called  
Gavin, I believe?"  
  
I froze. Gavin knew my address? How did this come about?  
Now I'd have to lock my door with eight more spells!  
  
"I read the letter," continued Father warmly. "He sounds  
like a delightful young man." He tossed me a scarlet envelope.  
  
I caught it and stared in fright. 'I hope he didn't  
confess his love for me in the letter or something,' I thought.  
'If so, I hope when Father's pills wear off, he'll have lost all  
memory of today.'  
  
I smiled meekly at my parents. Mother still looked  
completely pissed. I felt sorry for father's doctor. He  
certainly didn't know who he was messing with.  
  
After they had retreated, I sat down in the parlour, and  
slowly opened the letter.  
  
'Dear Draco Malfoy' the first line read, in loopy, perfect  
handwriting.  
  
'I am writing to apologise for things that happened that  
may have, or may have not been, taken in very inaccurate ways.  
  
Last week, when you happened to see me in a state that was  
not my best'- I smiled- ', I might have said a few things not  
worth repeating. In other words, please don't repeat them. Also,  
when we were saying goodbye, you left quite quickly. I hope you  
did not get the impression that I was going to kiss you. Trust  
me, if you were a woman and I got that impression, I would have  
left as soon as you did, too!  
  
But I simply was going to hug you! As corny as it is, I am  
a very emotional person and I sometimes show too much affection  
towards the people I consider my friends. Are we all right? Or  
am I worrying for nothing? Write back. Perhaps we can talk  
again?  
  
Yours,  
  
G. G.  
  
PS: You-Know-Who is a complete prick and I am so glad you  
made me see the truth.'  
  
I stared at the piece of parchment in awe. Gavin wasn't  
scary, or bad, or stupid, for that matter! Gavin didn't even  
seem to act very "gay" in the way he wrote messages. I was  
impressed. There wasn't really anything to be afraid of- at  
least now, as he wasn't actually with me.  
  
"So, he wasn't trying to hit on me!" I mused aloud,  
actually a bit disappointed, for ways I don't even want to think  
about.  
  
"You Malfoys are so thick," chided Riddle, who was now  
'chilling out' in a frame that usually houses a painting of a  
heart gushing out blood.  
  
"You know what, Tom? You're a memory, and also, you had  
nothing against Malfoys until just awhile ago when Father went  
loopy. So suck it up." I glared at him.  
  
He sort of growled at me, and left once more.  
  
(You'd be used to it by now, as well. Trust me.)  
  
I snorted, and set off to write a response to Gavin. 


	17. Hot Leather Pants on Men

~*~*~*Chapter Seventeen*~*~*~  
  
FIVE MINUTES LATER.  
  
'To G.G.-  
  
Do not flatter yourself. I neither thought you were going to  
kiss me, nor hug me. I left quickly because I realised that I was  
needed at-'  
  
A blot of ink dripped upon the parchment as I wondered just  
exactly where I realised I was needed at.  
  
-'Starknuts. You see, I had forgotten that Pansy and I had  
planned a date at StarKnuts, and I obviously had to be there. What's a  
date without me? If you are wondering, the coffee was great as always,  
and Pansy says she adores you.'  
  
"You don't adore her, though, do you, Draco?" hissed Tom Riddle  
loudly. "You Malfoy men are all the same! Me, me, me!"  
  
"Would you please quit reading over my shoulder, Tom? Besides,  
who's the one who tried to take over the universe? You. Y-O-U. Save it  
for a therapist."  
  
Dark lords these days.  
  
'I'm glad you forgot about What's His Face. It will do you good.  
As for talks, I need my space. I rhyme. That's very cool.  
  
Ta, ta for now!  
  
~ Draconus Lucifer Malfoy'  
  
Little did I know I'd be seeing him very soon.  
  
WEDNESDAY. 5:02 PM. OFF TO MEET PANSY AND MILLICENT BULSTRODE IN  
THE CENTRE OF HIPPOGRIFF SQUARE. JUST THE NAME BRINGS BACK MEMORIES.  
HORRIBLE ONES, TOO... OUCH.  
  
"Draco!" squealed Pansy. She ran up to me and clung. "I'm so  
happy to see you!"  
  
"I believe it," I agreed, wincing.  
  
I noticed that she looked more dressed up than usual. She was  
wearing a lacy blouse and a skirt that seemed to be missing material.  
But who's complaining?  
  
"Ooh!" she yelped. "I'm so excited to see Millie! It's been so  
long!"  
  
"Indeed," I nodded, my arm socket nearly being wrenched out.  
  
Millicent Bulstrode had dropped off the side of the earth after  
graduation, in a social sense. She didn't answer owls, didn't respond  
to notes spello-taped to her apartment door, and once, when Pansy  
swore she saw her in Knockturn Alley, Millicent pretended not to  
notice and left promptly. Pansy seemed surprised by this; I found it  
commendable. Because if you can stay out of Pansy Parkinson's clutch,  
you are worthy of recognition and much praise.  
  
So, this was the first time in months we'd be seeing her. I'd  
always liked Millicent.  
  
She once beat up a chair in the common room. Everyone always  
complained that the chair was an ugly shade of green. Millicent had  
anger problems. One day, she sat in it to do her homework. It fell  
over backward.  
  
No more chair.  
  
"OH, FOR SALAZAR'S SAKE!" screamed Pansy, her face brightening  
up like the common room did after the chair was killed. "MILLICENT!"  
  
And then softer: "Millicent. What did you do?"  
  
I turned to look. What DID she do?  
  
Bulstrode strode toward us, but there was something different  
about her. Her jaw! That was it! It didn't jut out so much! And her  
body! Not so square! And her face! Pretty! And her hair! Brushed!  
Long, straight! And her clothes: Butch.  
  
Soooo, butch.  
  
"Millicent!" I exclaimed, in spite of myself, while Pansy held  
onto the poor woman, like a small teacup poodle trying to befriend a  
Pitbull.  
  
"Draco," she acknowledged in her trademark husky voice, grinning  
in her grim way. She patted Pansy's blond hair, and Pansy giggled  
happily. "I've always hated the way I looked. So, I found a great  
witch doctor in Salem who agreed to give me magic surgery for a great  
price, and well, here I am!" she laughed. She'd never laughed like  
that before. Not even after killing the chair, or after beating in  
Pavarti Patil's face, or after shoving Michael Corner down the  
stairs. Twelve times.  
  
"No more stupid schoolgirl skirts for me," she declared. "No  
more little dresses! No more people saying that I look like something  
out of Holidays With Hags!"  
  
Pansy scrunched her nose. "Did someone really say that?"  
  
Millicent shrugged. "I don't think so. But I went through a  
phase in second year in which I tried to read minds, so perhaps I  
picked it up then. But, who cares? How have you two been?" She punched  
me in the shoulder.  
  
Ow.  
  
"Well, we've been just great!" Pansy gushed. "Draco and I  
getting along soooo well, and we love each other sooo much, and pretty  
soon, I'm hoping Draco can move into my condo with me! Isn't that  
right, Draco? Your father would let you do it for me, wouldn't he? He  
loves my chest!" she told Millicent excitedly.  
  
Millicent tried to look like she understood. It came off as  
disgust.  
  
I felt a bit guilty. Here was Pansy, head over heels in love  
with me, and I had completely lost interest in her. Should I tell her  
yet? Or should I save it until the plan was complete? Change the  
subject, someone. Anyone! Even a hobo!  
  
"Are you ready?" Millicent inquired, hopelessly trying to change  
the subject. Go, Millicent. It's your birthday. Go, go.  
  
"Ready for what?" I inquired, playing along.  
  
Millicent looked down a foot below her at Pansy. "Didn't you  
tell him?"  
  
So, I was the odd-person-out? Not a nice feeling, I tell you.  
  
"Oh... No, I forgot. Draco, we're going to meet some of Millie's  
friends at her group therapy."  
  
Millicent laughed in her old way, sounding like she had a  
rasping cough. I guess doctors can't fix everything. "Aw, love, you  
make it sound like I'm a mental patient! By the way, Draco, how IS  
your dad?"  
  
I sighed. Was everyone out to sadden me? "Fine, fine."  
  
"Good," she replied. "I always liked Mr. Malfoy..." She paused.  
"A pretty man." There was a long pause. "Ahem. So, where we're going  
is to meet some friends of mine," she explained quickly, in response  
to the look of astonishment I had on my face. I don't really like it  
when girls my age think my father is a sexpot. It is kind of  
depressing.  
  
"Great!" I stated a bit too loudly, as Pansy and I followed  
Millicent past a row of stores, Pansy clinging mercilessly. It was  
when we turned a corner and headed down an alley way when I began to  
get suspicious about where the location of these "friends" actually  
was. Half way down the back street, Millicent paused at a rather grimy  
looking door.  
  
She rapped her rather large knuckles upon it, until a little  
peephole opened up, and a voice commanded, "Password?"  
  
Millicent turned to look at Pansy and I with a kind of rueful  
smile.  
  
"Hot, tight, black leather pants on men," she declared hoarsely.  
  
My mouth fell open. "Wha-"  
  
The door swung open, revealing a rebellious looking teenage boy  
with a piercing in nearly every spot of his face. Millicent let out  
her low pitched laugh. "How's your bloody life, Quen? Haven't seen you  
in months!" she announced, hugging the little guy with such force that  
I expected him to keel over.  
  
"Millie!" he got out, grinning. "Look at you! Hot as ever!"  
  
This young man had obviously not known the old Millicent.  
  
Pansy and I stood quite a way's back, looking stupid. Well, SHE  
did. I probably looked quite marvelous.  
  
Millicent chuckled. "Come on, now, Pans," she coaxed, using her  
old nickname for Pansy. "Draco? Quen, these are two of my friends from  
Hogwarts."  
  
Pansy obeyed, so I followed. We stuck out our hands for this  
Quen fellow, but he believed in strange, complicated high-five type  
greetings instead, which took a few minutes.  
  
"Quen, don't confuse them anymore than they all ready are,"  
Millicent said, punching him in the arm. "They're heteros."  
  
Quen grinned apologetically, and sauntered off, the chains on  
his pants clanging loudly.  
  
"Wha-" I began again.  
  
"Draco, this is Millicent's gay hangout. You knew about her  
being a lesbian, didn't you?" Pansy inquired sweetly.  
  
"Wha-" I began once more.  
  
"Ye', Draco.. Thought I told you," Millicent shrugged.  
  
"But, aren't you supposed to have short, spiky hair? Like Hooch?  
And walk around saying things like,' Gryffindor WIN! On my whistle  
then. Three, two, one!', and-"  
  
Millicent frowned. "That Hooch was creepy, with her 'Gryffindor,  
WIN!' and all."  
  
"Yes, I know I just spoke of Hooch, but most lesbians have short  
hair, don't they?"  
  
"No! Not all of us, of course. If we all acted like me, than  
there wouldn't be any femmes, and what would be the point, then eh?"  
She grinned wryly.  
  
"Femmes?"  
  
"Yes, lesbians who play the 'woman' role. Of course, a lot of  
couples don't have a 'woman' or a 'man'. And a lot of butches like  
butches, and femmes like femmes."  
  
"How can you not have a man?"  
  
"Draco, you're really starting to make me feel bad for you."  
  
"B-but, didn't you just comment on my father being pretty?" I  
inquired slowly. My head was spinning.  
  
"Draco..." Millicent sniggered. "I think that everyone in this  
entire room thinks your dad is beautiful. Straight MEN probably think  
he's beautiful."  
  
"Millicent!" I yelled. "It is NO LONGER Insult Your Father Day!  
And furthermore, he's MY father, not yours! HOW MANY PEOPLE DO I HAVE  
TO TELL?"  
  
"What?" she voiced, looking severely worried.  
  
"Sorry, nothing." I drew a deep breath. "All right. I don't care  
that you're gay. In fact, I find it sexy. But I must tell you that I  
don't blame you for running away from Hogwarts when Vincent Crabbe  
asked you out."  
  
She looked serious. "Oh. That was a disturbing moment. Don't  
mention it again."  
  
I eyed her fists.  
  
"Okay."  
  
With all that resolved, Millicent brought us deeper into the  
room. It was a bit like a coffee shop, with strange art on the walls  
and big couches where people were talking. There was a little stage in  
the back of the room, where a woman with long hair and glasses was  
crooning with a guitar.  
  
"Everything I do is not  
  
Good enough for you  
  
And sometimes I feel like  
  
I want to kick dirt in your faaace," she sang.  
  
It made me feel just a bit uncomfortable.  
  
"You two can sit down, if you'd like," Millicent smiled, leading  
us to an empty table near where the witch was singing. She'd  
apparently mistaken my look of horror for an expression that read  
'Wow! That music sounds so happy! Let's go over where we can actually  
hear it! Yes, that would be good.'  
  
Pansy must have felt the same way about the singer, because once  
we had sat down, she cowered and smashed herself onto my chest.  
Millicent sang along and moved a little with the tune.  
  
A new song began:  
  
"Ohh, daddy  
  
You piss me off and I  
  
Want to kick you in the jaw and I  
  
Want to use your nose to pluck this guitar and I  
  
Want to avada kedavraaaa you!"  
  
Strangely, it was in the same tune, except the woman was now  
beating her guitar with her fist and yowling. The crowd began to get a  
little rowdy. Coffee sloshed onto the floor, hands clapped along, and  
people began to rock back and forth to the beat of the chorus.  
  
"Don't you just love her?" Millicent exclaimed. "I have her  
album, and it's so great. 'Back Stab Randy' is my favourite song."  
Millicent paused, thinking, and sort of whispered, "'Back stab Randy  
because she did the same to your sister and the heat is rising across  
the floor like the steam from your shower curtain'," she finished,  
plucking an imaginary guitar. "Ah.. Poetry. It's the best. Her name's  
Gewel. She's a regular here!"  
  
"Mmmm," I said.  
  
"Ohhhhh," Pansy replied. "You never used to like this kind of  
music, did you Millie?"  
  
Millicent smiled, and hit Pansy on the shoulder, which hurt us  
both. "Oh, Pans! I still love my death metal, but Gewel is so- so  
introspective."  
  
Wow. Millicent has a vocabulary! (::PAUSE. LET EVERYONE HAVE A  
MOMENT OF SILENT BUT VERY SURPRISED CONTEMPLATION.....  
  
.....  
  
.....  
  
OKAY.::)  
  
Unexpectedly, Pansy sat up, bumping my chin. As I complained  
loudly and got hit with a piece of doughnut, Pansy suddenly squeaked,"  
Isn't that Hermione Granger?"  
  
Cursing my luck, I turned around slowly. It certainly was.  
  
'Ignore her,' I thought. 'She'll never know you were in this  
dive! Oh Tom Riddle, don't let her see me.'  
  
"OMIGOOOOD!" screamed a voice.  
  
Clearly, Tom was still irritated at me, because I recognised the  
voice as Gavin's.  
  
**AN: Just for the record, my spellcheck wanted me to change  
'Pavarti' to 'pervert', and 'heteros' to 'heaters.' Also, I LOVE  
JEWEL. But her "Daddy" song IS pretty scary. If you haven't  
heard it, do look it up.. Spooky. All right, and I am so sorry I  
haven't posted in forever. The Fake World controlled my life for  
a month or so... NEVER AGAIN. J/K. As my friend PrplPenguin56  
(Rebecca) would say,"I love my life. It's so funny." 


	18. May Day

**AN:** HARRY POTTER IN... counts on fingers A FEW  
HOURS!!!!!!YEEEEES! does Rupert Yelling Thing from "Survivor"!  
And Pansy's in it! If you haven't seen her, she's cute!!! I'M SO  
EXCITED!!! (David wants to go.. To the movie... Sorry, I'm at school.)  
Oh, and this chapter is dedicated to the dedicated Chess,  
for a very specific reason. And Rainbow Alley belongs to my  
friend Sacred Magyck. Oh, and I hope this new program (QuickEdit) works, because it is the answer to my prayers. (Thank you, Lord Voldemort.) Just kidding.  
  
**CHAPTER EIGHTEEN**  
  
_"Helllloooooooooooo!" _Gavin was shouting shrilly, causing quite  
a commotion, I must say. Gewel stopped strumming and stared. A couple  
of very butch women who had been watching her perform hissed "SHUT  
UP!" at us, and Pansy hopped up and started waving. I could have  
kicked her.  
  
Gavin tugged Hermione's hand and they both came over to us.  
Millicent looked embarrassed. Or maybe that was disappointment, since  
"Back Stab Randy" had just started, and she was all set and ready to  
hum and move her head back and forth.  
  
"Hello, you three!" he exclaimed, once they'd reached us.  
Hermione stood quite a distance back, frowning sallowly. I nodded at  
her. She turned around and deliberately started talking to one of the  
angry folksy women.  
  
"GAVIE!" squealed Pansy, and hugged him tight around the waist.  
  
Millicent mumbled to herself.  
  
I decided that I had been silent too long. I strolled up to  
Hermione.  
  
"Hello," I greeted warmly.  
  
She rolled her eyes at the woman. "See? See what I mean?" With  
that, she faced me. "HELLO, Draco," she returned crisply.  
  
"Granger," I began," you could at least give me a bit of  
decency. I AM being nice to you here-"  
  
-" Oh! All right, Malfoy," she snapped. "I suppose I'll forgive  
you now!"  
  
"You will?"  
  
"**NO! **How can **YOU** approach** ME **and act as though **I AM **the  
rude one, when **YOU** are the** ONE **who has been so **CRUEL** to myself and  
every one of my friends for the past seven years? I'm certainly glad  
you got a reality check and figured out that life isn't set nicely  
into four houses. I'm sorry Draco, but it isn't **THAT** easy to figure  
out who to hate. But it sure is easy when I look at you. Because all I  
see is someone that I **CANNOT STAND**!"  
  
My mouth hung open.  
  
As did the mouths of every other person in the room. (Except for  
Pansy and Gavin, who were still talking.)  
  
"Thas' cold," someone muttered.  
  
Defeated. Defeated. DEFEATED.  
  
Hermione looked a bit uncomfortable. The woman sitting next to  
us coughed and stared at the floor.  
  
Hermione sighed. "I'm sorry for putting it that way. I suppose  
it's stooping to your level, eh? Well, I won't let you have that. I  
think it would be better if I just didn't speak to you , Malfoy. _Keep  
on the old tradition_?" she gave me a tight smile, and then sat down,  
looking away.  
  
I think that what she said then hurt much worse than what she  
said before.  
  
Without saying goodbye to my friends, I left.  
  
May Day, May Day.  
  
11:24 PM. DON'T ASK.  
  
Yes, I believe I inherited my father's insanity. In fact, I am  
quite certain of it. Why else would I, Draconus Lucifer Malfoy, be  
standing on the doorstep of a Weasley, because some MUDBLOOD put me  
down? This is beyond Lucius-itis. This is... Bizarre.  
  
On top of that, it's raining, and I walked over here from that  
deranged club. Actually, it was not the club so much as the people.  
Actually, it wasn't the people, it was HER.  
  
Nothing has EVER made me feel so low. (Well, actually, I've felt  
pretty low, but never have I acknowledged it.)  
  
And here I am, knocking on Percy Weasley's door. At eleven in  
the night. Percy seems like the type to set his alarm for seven thirty  
in the evening, and when it goes off, he abruptly gets into his white,  
clean sheets, lies on his back, sighs peacefully, shuts his eyes, and  
goes right to sleep.  
  
Here I am.  
  
Oh, and did I mention that my hair is all wet so I look like I'm  
in the bloody Mafia?  
  
There came a sound of locks being opened, and finally, Percy was  
staring at me through the screen door.  
  
Surprisingly, he asked no questions. He shook his head sadly,  
and unhooked the door, opening it wide to let me through. I took a  
step forward.  
  
"Stay there!" he shouted. "You'll drip on my rug."  
  
I stayed, shivering to the beat of my heart, which was pounding  
very quickly.  
  
He returned in less than a minute with his wand, pointed with a  
spell, and I was dry. After that, I sat down hard upon his couch.  
  
"I need help," was all I could say. Then, I remembered that the  
angry Mudblood Granger lived HERE.  
  
**"OH! NO, NO! SHE'LL BE HERE SOON! I HAVE TO HIDE! HOW COULD I  
FOR-"  
**  
Percy watched me run madly around his coffee table twice before  
he said," Actually, she's-" he quoted with his fingers-" 'clubbing'  
with a friend and she's staying with him this evening."  
  
"Oh." I sighed, and sat down once more. "I know," I said dully.  
"She just insulted me cruelly."  
  
A smile came over Percy's face.  
  
I shook my fist," Shuuut up! See, I went with Millicent  
Bulstrode and Pansy to this weird little place where the password was  
something about hot leather pants, and the music was pretty  
disturbing, and lots of people swayed, and then Gavin and Hermione  
walk in and Hermione gives this soliloquy about how much she..  
_dislikes_.. me."  
  
Percy stopped smiling. "Uh oh. I'm sorry. She does have a  
tendency to rant sometimes. I hate to say it, but I think you're  
hopeless."  
  
I narrowed my eyes into tiny slits. _"How dare-"  
_  
He raised his eyebrow.  
  
I fell back in dismay. "I know," I admitted.  
  
Percy widened his eyes purposely. "Oh my- I think you have just  
seen the light! Oh, Draco! How _wonderful_!" he smirked, clapping.  
  
"Nice sarcasm," I said, conquered.  
  
"Thanks. I've been working on it. Now that you've discovered  
you're hopeless without me, are you ready to begin doing this MY way?"  
  
"No wonder Ron is always so angry," I growled.  
  
"Come on, Draco," Percy grinned. "You can say it."  
  
"Fine, fine, fine!" I yelled. "Help me, pleeease!" I grabbed his  
arm and shook it.  
  
"That's what I like to hear. A Malfoy groveling," he said  
happily.  
  
Just then, there came a sound of a key in the lock.  
  
I looked up, and to my dismay, I saw Hermione in the side  
window! "_AHHHH_! IT'S HER!"  
  
Percy grabbed his wand, but all ready, the door was opening.  
"Lie down!" he spat out. I obeyed, but then he put his legs over my  
back and covered them- and me- with a blanket that had been draped  
over the top of the couch. "WHAT ARE YOU-" I yelled, but then I heard  
the door slam loudly.  
  
I had no other choice but to be (oh, right now I am going to  
cringe so badly) UNDER Percy Weasley. Ack! Save the children! Wait! _Forget the children! Save me! For Salazaar's sake, save me!!!  
_  
I tried not to make any sound or sudden movement, but I felt  
like I might yell out in disgust. I was glad it was such a big couch.  
And I was also thankful that Percy put his legs on either side of my  
body, as to not make contact with my underside, shall we say? It was  
very awkward.  
  
"_EEERRRRR_!" she screamed. "I'm so aggravated right now! And who  
were **YOU** talking to?"  
  
"No one," Percy exclaimed, trying to sound concerned. "What ever  
is the matter?"  
  
Hermione's voice darkened. "Draco Malfoy. He's everywhere these  
days! _I told you about the little creep in the restaurant_, and just  
now, he was in Rainbow Alley. And he's acting like he's my best  
friend!** I could just exterminate the little rat**!" She paused. "Now  
this is really absurd, Percy, but it's almost as though he _fancies  
_ me!"  
  
"Malfoy, fancy _you_? What would you do if he did?" Percy inquired.  
  
There was a sound that made it clear that Hermione had flopped  
into a chair. "I wouldn't know what to think. Why would he like me,  
after all of the years he called me 'ugly' and was so awful to you and  
your family, and how he made Harry so angry all of the time."  
  
"Yes, but everything made Harry so angry _all_ of the time," Percy  
stated delicately.  
  
I made the mistake of laughing aloud.  
  
Percy hacked loudly to cover. "Pardon me. I believe I'm catching  
a cold. Please go on."  
  
A silence suggested that Hermione was giving him a rather  
strange look.  
  
"Well, the fact of the matter is that I have so much to think  
about right now without Malfoy. And I want to keep it that way. He's  
nothing but trouble. Work is slow, and mum and dad still want me to  
become a dentist, no matter what I tell them. I'm still waiting to  
enroll in WWWU, as you know," she sighed. "And then the deal with  
Neville and Ron. Those flowers were so lovely that Neville sent the  
other day, and we've decided to go out for dinner tomorrow night. But  
then showed up at the bookstore today and I was working the  
information desk, so he kept asking really daft questions, like _'lady,  
where's the loo, please?'_ and then he pretended like he didn't know  
what a book was and asked me to explain it. People were giving him  
very odd looks." She gave a soft laugh. "_I just don't know_!" she  
exclaimed, her voice serious.  
  
"I know," Percy told her. "I understand."  
  
This was more complicated than I thought. Even though she  
presumed that Neville had sent her the flowers ( a fair assumption,  
since he's obsessed with plants), but she still fancied Ron! And Ron  
hadn't gotten her anything! He'd just acted like a goon! (Well,  
Neville hadn't bought anything either, but she thought he- oh, never  
mind.)  
  
The floor squeaked, so Hermione must have been standing up. "I'm  
going to bed," she announced.  
  
"Wait just a minute," Percy stated, as though he'd just realised  
something. "Why aren't you still out with Gavin?"  
  
She gave a long sigh. "Well, I was irritated enough when Malfoy  
tried to speak to me, but then he left, so it was getting better. But  
then Harry arrived, and I said 'hello' to him, and we were talking,  
but then Gavin acted extremely cold and didn't acknowledge Harry's  
existence! I mean, I can comprehend him being angry about the break  
up, but this is not Gavin's sunny nature! I asked him why he was  
ignoring Harry like he was in bleeding second year, and do you know  
what he said?_ 'Harry? Harry, who?'_!"  
  
'That's my boy,' I said to myself.  
  
Percy chortled. "Hermione, I've told you that he's not to be  
trusted. You know who's side I'm on!"  
  
_Interesting..._  
  
"Sides don't matter! It's just so obnoxious, and I wish I could  
find Gavin someone." Hermione laughed suddenly. "Maybe we should set  
him up with Malfoy! They certainly seemed to hit it off!"  
  
I practically flew out from under the blanket, but that visual  
would just give the statement more of a factual meaning.  
  
"They've met?" Percy inquired.  
  
"Yes, at dinner that night. I told you."  
  
"Oh, yes. I forgot."  
  
"That's something else about him," Hermione exclaimed. "How  
could you like Draco?"  
  
Percy paused. "You must remember, _he_ didn't go to school with  
him."  
  
"I guess so! Anyhow, I'm off to bed. Good night," she finished  
briskly, and walked off.  
  
I started to get up.  
  
"Hold on," Percy said quietly. There was the sound of a door  
slamming, and then water running. "Right." He threw the blanket off of  
me, and I scrambled out.  
  
Percy must have suspected I was about to yell, so he put his  
finger to his lips.  
  
I whispered furiously," _If you tell **ANYBODY** about where I just was, and I mean **ANYBODY, YOU WILL PAY VERY DEARLY**. I know people who know people, Weasley!"  
_  
He rolled his eyes," Do you think I'M going to run 'round braggin' that I was atop a Malfoy for nearly seven minutes and twelve seconds?" He cringed."No. Most definitely NOT." He shook his head,"Now before you get caught, leave! We're still on for lunch, that is, if you're still interested in Hermione!"  
  
I was having second thoughts, but there was no way I could turn  
back now. "Of course."  
  
"Good, then." He smiled nicely. "**GO**!" he snapped.  
  
Glaring, I ran out into the night.  
  
Then I hit the trash can.  
  
So much for a fantastic get-away moment.  
  
Life often disapoints me. 


	19. Ever Heard of Bisexual?

**AN:** Wow. It _has _been a long time, hasn't it? I apologise. I've been off doing other things, waiting for the right time to update. I've also been writing _Village _fan fiction, which some of you may have noticed. School has begun. Homework. You know the drill.

Ooh! I loved the third movie! Go, Harry! Keep defending people you've never met! You tell 'em, Ron! Hoboes Rule, Sirius and Remus! Dumbledore and Trelawney are hippies! Snape is such so wonderful! Draco is so _Draco_ this time- so mean and snarky and incredibly sad! Hermione- shakes head- you disappointed me with your little hip huggers. NEVILLE!!! YOU WERE GREAT AND CUTE! Dudley, you were so my hero. Peter scared the life out of me. And Hagrid, _you just go._

Welcome back to _Saving Prefect Granger, _and thank you for your support and reviews! I love hearing that I've made you laugh, and I hope you enjoy Chapter Nineteen- Ever Heard of Bisexual?

**Chapter Nineteen**

**SATURDAY. 11:49. AT THE MAGIC PALACE.**

I had arrived early because my father was in the bathtub, and I did not want to be interrogated. Needless to say, I'd all ready worked through a whole pot of Chinese tea and some sweet rolls with meat inside. Life is never complete without appetizers, you know.

At precisely noon, my partner in crime walked in. He was dressed all in black, and was wearing little sun glasses. He spotted me and edged toward me, and when he reached the table, he looked around quickly before sitting down.

"_What on-" _I began, but he shushed me.

"_Don't you dare shu-" _

He put his finger to his lips.

"Keep it down," he declared softly. "This is Top Secret, remember? If someone from the office recognised me, and then they spotted you, I'd be in a very strange situation. Conversing with the child of a convict is no good when-"

"**My father is NOT-**"

"Good afternoon. Here is your menu," said our waiter to Percy, as I had mine all ready. The waiter was a man with a neat little goatee and curly hair. He wore a shirt that said 'No More Corn!' and had a moving print of Fudge on it. I found that to be quite outdated, since Mr. Fudge had been fired nearly two years ago, but didn't say so. "Our special is the special rice!" he exclaimed loudly.

I had all ready opened the menu, and was going over the rice myself. "What about the almond prawn rice? Is that any good? I mean, if seafood is not cooked in a quality way, you may as well toss it out of the window, you know what I mean?"

Percy glared at me for no particular reason.

But the waiter's expression did not change. "Why not the _special rice_?"

"Er- what's in it?" I inquired, trying to be polite.

He took a little tablet of paper out of his pocket, and read, "The special rice has chicken, beef, egg, shrimps, onion, bean sprouts, ham-" he swiveled around and stared at me with the most sinister glare I had witnessed in my life- **_"You fancy ham, DON'T YOU?" _**

What a loony.

Percy sensed that I was going to throw in a comment that might not be very courteous, so he hid his face behind his menu and said, "Of** course** he fancies ham! _We both do._ Everyone does! We'll both have the special rice! Thank you _so, so_ much!"

"You'll enjoy the special rice. You've made a great decision, sirs," he grinned, took our menus, and went away.

"I hate ham!" I exclaimed.

"Oh, you can pick it out!"

"_I don't pick my food!"_

"My, someone sounds like the Malfoy I remember!"

I made a face. "So?"

"So, get over yourself. There is nothing the matter with ham, all right? In the Weasley household, we ate what we had. If you didn't like it, well, fine! You could go hungry! Well, not exactly go hungry, but you'd be stuck with toast and beans for the night. When a mad man wants you to have the rice, you should bloody well _take_ that rice!"

"You come here often, do you?"

"Almost every day."

LATER

The special rice was fine. But I did not find it very special. It was actually quite dismal how our waiter kept coming back again and again to ask if it was still good. He looked as though he'd bite my nose if I said anything but yes.

""_HEM,"_ Percy said into his tea cup. "So, The Plan. I have been working on it." And to my surprise, he removed a wad of papers out of his jacket and slid them across the table to me. "Notes," he grinned sheepishly. "I've always been one to go a bit barmey when there is information needed to be documented."

I picked up the first page.

_Hermione Jane Granger_

_Favourite colour is blue. Not sky blue. Not navy blue, But deep, royal blue._

_She enjoys pasta and Asian food. She is quite good with chopsticks._

_Her dream is to work for WWPC the wizard and witch peace corps_.

I looked up. "This is brilliant," I told him, but then his face lit up. I was not used to making people happy that I challenged," But what good will all of this do me if I never get to speak to her! _I told you what she said to me the other night! You heard what she said about me!"_

Percy shook his head and gave me a dark look. "If you don't want them-"

He reached over but I snatched the papers up.

"Of course I want them. What, are you barmey?"

Just then, a figure caught my eye.

Like Percy, he was clad in black and wearing shades. But he had black hair and instead of edging along slowly, he sprinted as fast as the air could carry him. When he reached our tablehe pulled out the chair next to Percy and crashed into it, attracting many stares.

"Good Godric," hissed Percy. He glowered at the person. "Nice work, Harry. "

"Harry?" I burst out.

He removed his dark glasses, and put on his normal geeky ones. "Hello, Malfoy. Didn't know I was in on The Plan, _did you_?"

Percy glared, trying to hush him.

"**WEASLEY**!" I yelled. "You were _supposed_ to keep this a _secret_! You were _supposed_ to protect my _secrets_! **YOU WERE SUPPOSED TO**-"

"Oh, shut it, you bloody nut!" Harry yelled. "Honestly, you're still the most annoying prat I know! I guessed you were in love with Hermione, and I nearly told her. It was your luck Percy here let me in on what was up!"

I thought for a moment. "STILL! I hate Potter. Why did you have to tell him, Weasley?"

"He was going to exploit you! Would you rather have had Hermione know?"

"NO, but-"

Harry twitched his eyebrow in quite an eerie way. "Well, Malfoy. Lookie who the arch nemesis is _now._"

I pursed my lips.

"Don't like it so well, Draco old boy? Ah, Percy and I are going to have quite a nice time getting _you _back."

That was when I noticed Percy was smiling as well.

"What- what is happening? What are you doing?" I whispered, eyeing the door.

"We've an event for you to attend, Draco," Percy said, grinning. "My brother Ron is having a birthday this coming weekend. I trust you are free to attend? Hermione will be there, of course."

I stared at them. "Ronald's _birthday? Do you want me to be killed?"_

"Only every other day," Harry put in, smiling. "See, Draco, the thing is, Mrs. Weasley invited me _and _Gavin. But seeing as that didn't work out, there is a free space."

"That's very sweet of you," I said dryly.

"I don't think you get my meaning."

"What is there to get?" I declared. "I go to this party and you help me stay alive!"

Percy and Harry exchanged Looks.

Harry cleared his throat. "Actually, Draco, I told Mrs. Weasley I had another date in mind. So, I should do this formally, perhaps? Draco Malfoy, would you like to attend Ron's bash_ as my boyfriend_?"

My face turned pink. I felt my insides boiling.

"**NO! AARGH! HOW MANY TIMES DO I HAVE TO TELL YOU-**"

"Ssh, shh, Draco. Mrs. Weasley is very accepting and tolerant of our kind. I can assure you that you will be perfectly safe."

He and Percy then dissolved into hysterical laughter.It became malevolentlaughter, and I thought about making a run for it.

"You're so brilliant, you forgot that I am supposed to be attracting Hermione! How will I be attracting Hermione if I'm pretending to be your- you know?"

"Ever heard of _bisexual, _dear Malfoy?"

Unfortunately, I had.

"Don't look so sad," Percy told me. "We're just having a bit of fun with you, the way you did Harry for nearly seven years."

"I suppose it is fair," I grumbled.

"What was that, dear?" Harry questioned loudly.

"I cannot take any more of this!" I yelled, grabbing the Hermione notes. "Good-bye!"

"**REMEMBER, DARLING! NEXT WEEKEND. WE'LL PICK YOU UP AT YOUR MANOR! WEAR SOMETHING SMASHING! TA TA!"**

So much for being secretive.

**STILL SATURDAY. 5:15 PM. AT MANOR. TRYING TO LOOK BUSY SO NO ONE WILL SPEAK TO ME. NOT SUCCEEDING. **

"You seem depressed, Dragon," Mother told me, leaning over my favourite leather armchair in the Great Room.

"No. I'm tired," I lied, stuffing the Hermione Granger notes into the cushion. I had been finding out many interesting things about the woman I love, but these discoveries seemed unimportant when ever I remembered what role I would have to play at the upcoming party. Let me tell you something:

Harry Potter is **mean! **I know I spent a long time making cracks about how he is a pathetic orphan, but he is **mean. **My advice to you is to ignore him if you ever meet him. Trust me, you'll be happy about it in the long run.

She came around the front of the chair and smiled. "You received mail, today. It's from _Pansy!"_

My face blanched. "Great," I said through gritted teeth. Just when I thought the world couldn't be any more cruel.

Mother left me alone, then. I was glad. I hate when she tries to pretend that she cares about my life. Sighing, I split open the envelope.

_Dearest Draco,_

_I felt it was time for us to be intimate. Enclosed, you will find a copy of my condo key. Please feel free to visit me whenever you wish. I'll make sure to keep the toilet paper stocked. _

_Love,_

_Pansy XOXOXOXOXOXOXO_

I shook the envelope, and out fell a handsome, old-fashioned key.

What good could this ever do me? I suppose if I ever feel harassed enough, I could go over there and beg for a meal.

I guess I'll keep the key. Either that, or sell it to my father.

Ew, scratch that.


	20. Happy Birthday, Dear Ron

**Chapter Twenty**

**FAST-FORWARD ONE WEEK. SATURDAY AGAIN. NOON. DREADING THE PARTY. STARING AT CLOTHES. TRYING TO FIND SOMETHING VERY SUBTLE. **

I growled to myself whilst tossing garments out of my closet. I was trying to be positive- trying to belittle my predicamentwith a simple "Oy, I deserved it!"

But I'm just not that way.

Potter and Percy hadn't told me what time they would pick me up, though I figured it would be in the evening sometime. I had decided to pick out an outfit early, so I could change into and run as soon as they got there, as to not let my parents in on where I was going.

Then, the truth of the matter hit me- how in the world would they know where my manor was? I'd never told anyone where I lived, besides Pansy, and how would she get contact with Harry and the crew? And _why _would she?

Things were definitely looking up. No party, no bisexual...

_No Granger. _

It was a hard compromise, but I was weary of making efforts to woo her and being pushed to the ground. Flattened. _Smashed. _Tonight seemed like a good night to write angsty poetry and eat chocolate frogs.

_Ding- Dong._

Oh phooey.

**.One Moment Later.**

I had run down the stairs as fast as I could manage, yet I was all ready _too late. _

Lucius Malfoy stood in the doorjamb, looking at Harry Potter and Percy Weasley with a tone of contempt in his voice.

I waited, holding my breath.

"What are you attempting to sell me?" he inquired. "Well, be quick about it!"

**Yes! **He hadn't recognised them!

_For good reason, too. _In honor of the holidays that were soon coming up, Harry was clothed in the usual shades, and little reindeer antlers. Percy stood beside him, decked out in a pale blue jumper which had gargantuan snowflakes on it and a scarf which had been wrapped over him so you could only see his eyes.

Harry noticed me in the background, and nodded frantically. "Er, we actually were looking for the _young adult _of the house, sir."

Father glanced to where Harry was looking. "_Ah. I see_. Well, then, Draco, deal with these _doorbell-ringer_s abruptly." He snorted snottily and then muttered "Love the scarf."

I inched in piouslyto handle the situation.When he had disappeared, I hissed at them ferociously.

"_How could you do that? If he'd have recognised you, I would be hung, drawn and quartered! You have no regard for the feelings of others!"_

"Pshaw," Harry laughed, stepping in.

"And how did find my house? This is burglary, it is!"

"Oh, please," Percy sighed, unwrapping the scarf. "I know from the Ministry. Your father gets an awful lot of house calls, you know." He walked past me, as I stood, slack- jawed at the nerve of them.

"By the way," Harry began," Dad's looking good. What did he get- face job, wax, hair cut? Oh, don't be jealous, dear." His eyes darkened. " You were _always _so jealous," he tittered, and strolled after Percy, nonchalantly commenting upon the items in my home.

Unable to understand their lazy attitudes, I whispered _"Where on earth are you going?"_

"Why, to your room, of course. You can't tell me your wearing that dull getup. It's nearly Yuletide," Percy stated evilly.

Harry grinned and grabbed my arm. "You'll have to direct us there, Draco. I'm afraid to say that the last time I visited, I was under some sort of charm." He eyed me suspiciously and then shouted, "You_ dirty pig!"_

We descended up the grand staircase, Harry and Percy laughing all the way.

**IN MY ROOM. NEVER THOUGHT I'D BE IN THIS SITUATION.**

"Oooh, this must be your Mother?" Harry was pouring over the photographs on my dresser that I had put out reluctantly years before after a rather traumatic family experience.

"Actually no," I replied curtly. "My father back in seventh year."

"Oh," fumbled Harry, "Well.. you know.. Seventies hair, and all." Percy chuckled and studied my Uncle Hagawthe, looking mildly bored.

"What is this anyhow? A home invasion?" I declared, hand on hip.

Harry shrugged. "We figured you wouldn't tell us where you lived. No worries though- we found it without much trouble. Nice house. A little bit- _roomy_."

"No doubt it is, compared to your aunt's shack. But I have decided not to attend Weasley's bash after all."

They both turned to stare.

"But _the plan_, Malfoy. _The plan!_ Tonight could be your lucky night," Percy shrugged.

"Not if I'm playing boyfriend with the boy who lived!" I snapped.

Harry's emerald eyes glittered with malice. _"Hermione will **never ** fancy a bloke as close- minded as you."_

The words stung, so I stung back. "She fancies Weasley, doesn't she?"

Harry shook his head. "Ron _is _a bit ignorant when it comes to.. me. But Ron has a good heart and he's decent for-"

"In love with him a bit, Pottie?"

"In the sense you're saying, NO. But he _is _my best mate, and I know he's good for my_ other _best mate. Understood?"

I muttered a reply.

"In the meantime, you'd better dress how we want you, or you'll never have a chance."

"What does dressing a certain way have to do with _anything_?"

"Because in that outfit, you look like a pompous, stingy prat who only has interest in money and expensive food. Come, let's turn you into something less _true._"

Half an hour later, I emerged from my bathroom wearing a dire combination of clothing the two had brought along: a fuzzy bluish jumper, a white scarf, and (_shudder_) blue jeans. I felt so unlike myself that it was strange- I almost could have spoken with another personality.

Percy and Harry stood outside my room, studying me. Thinking of new ways to torture me.

"Hair," Potter said. "Hair's too Draco-ish. Come here."

"No," I declared.

"Come on. If you don't move, well- I suppose you leave me with no choice." He removed his wand, and before I could move, he shot a spell at my head.

I felt my hair in horror, my lovely hair. It seemed to now be standing in spikes.

Harry whistled. _"Look at you. _Ooh... He went in Draco Malfoy, he came out my new punk playmate." He guffawed.

Sulking, I rolled my eyes. "Quick. Let's get out of here before my-"

At this precise moment, Lucius ambled down the hall.

"Still here?" he tutted. "_Draco_, you musn't show them any more..." He trailed off, thinking he was being discreet.

"Of course, Father. I was-"

-"Just explaining how you didn't need any?" supplied Percy.

"Was just going to-"

-" Show us the way out."

Without another word, we whisked away.

"How odd," clucked Father simply, and paid us no attention.

"Wow! Your dad's certainly more lax than I recall," Harry mused, after we'd taken off in (yes..) _another _flying car. But this one had apparently been given the thumbs up.

"Not really. It's just the medication," I shrugged and then immediately blushed.

Percy turned around. "Medication? Is he still crazy as a loon?"

"NO- well, I..."

"_So_," Harry put in, giving a meaningful glance through the mirror. "I think it's time we give Draco a few pointers for this party."

"Great. Perhaps I can actually talk to Hermione without upsetting her," I declared.

Percy and Harry looked at each other. Finally, Percy stated "It's not about Hermione."

"What do you mean?"

"Well, first of all: My mother might be a little angry at you, for good reason, I do say. But if you are polite and compliment her profusely, I'm certain she'll find it in her heart to forgive you. Ron.. Is another story completely. If you stay tactful and respectful, I'm certain there will be no fist fight, but I wouldn't count on it. Fred and George seem to like you now- don't know why. Ginny might scream at you- you never know. And Dad.. Well, just don't mention your name and he'll never catch on. Funny chap."

"Oh."

I was suddenly aware that the end of my life was most likely very near. I was also quite certain why Harry and Percy were _helping _me. It was like one of those stupid Muggle reality television shows, without the show. _What obstacle will Draco be up against this week? Where will he hide? Who will chastise him?_

_Let us see!_

**.at the Weasley home.**

Harry pulled the car into a rocky landing, settling in a very rural yard. Up ahead was what appeared to be a lopsided, tall cottage.

"Welcome to the Burrow. Compliments accepted," Percy recited, opening the car door.

I couldn't stop staring at the house. Sure, it was old. Kind of unrefined and plain. But there was _something _endearing about it, and I hated to even think that way. Harry grabbed my arm and steered me toward the front door.

"_Oh, Harry, dear! _We thought you'd never arrive!" exclaimed a person who I assumed was Ron's mother, standing upon the front porch. "Percy, you have mail. Oh, come here, dear." She held out her arms to Potter and then stopped when she saw me. "And who might this be?" she questioned slowly.

"Mrs. Weasley, this is my new boyfriend. I trust everyone will make him feel welcome here? He's quite skittish."

Mrs. Weasley squinted. I could tell that my new hair had thrown her for a loop. "And your name?" she inquired cautiously.

"It's Draco," responded Percy calmly. "But no worries, Mother. He's actually changed quite a lot since you last saw him. I believe there was always a Gryffindor in him, trying to get out, you know." He smiled at my gritted teeth.

"_Percy," _whispered Mrs. Weasley fiercely, giving us an apologetic smile and then looking back at her son, as though we could not hear. _"What in Merlin's name are you doing? A Malfoy, at your brother's nineteenth birthday? Is this some kind of sick joke?"_

"Exactly what I thought, Mrs. Weasley," I said. "Now if you'll excuse me-"

-"No chickening out, Malfoy!"

"Oh, Harry, I say! If your _friend.. ? _wants to leave, do let him!"

"Mother," tutted Percy. "If you must know, we are helping Draco to become a better person. He fancies Hermione, and though he doesn't think this means anything, _we _do. We've taken him under our wing and he's going to be all better by the time we're through with him."

My mouth dropped open in uttermost horror. "PERCY!"

Mrs. Weasley looked at me. "Hermione, eh? That's sweet. Please come in."

"What?"

"Come in, dear. This proves you have a soul."

_**Dear. Salazaar.**_

As we walked in, I hissed at Percy. "There's two people you've told! TWO! How could you do this? Now your MOTHER knows, and she'll tell Ron!"

"No, she won't. At least today. It's Ron's birthday."

"Yes, Draco," Harry put in. "Don't be ridiculous. Oh, look. Your public awaits."

Ron, Ginny, Mr. Ron's Father, and _Hermione _were all seated in the living room.

"Harry!" Ginny exclaimed, causing them all to look. "_Ohhh?"_

My public awaited, and they looked anything but excited.

"MALFOY?" yelled Ginny, standing up and looking confused. "What are _you _doing here?"

"Where?" asked her father, and looked out the window.

"Dear oh dear," Hermione muttered, massaging her temples.

Ron stared, horrified.

"Apparently you all know my guest. We hooked up last week and decided we had a lot in common. So, please make him feel welcome!" Harry smiled, and pulled me in.

"Pull up a seat," Mr. Weasley said nicely. "You look like someone I used to know.. Oh, bother.. This is going to drive me mad!"

"Harry, what are you doing?" Ron asked testily. "Is this some kind of joke? because _frankly_, I don't find it amusing in the least!"

"No joke, Ron. He's changed a lot. Just you see. Happy birthday, by the way!"

"Yes, Happy Birthday, Ron," I managed to get out, after Harry had poked me in the ribs.

"**THIS IS NOT FUNNY!" **Ron bellowed, and got out of his chair.

"Now, Ron! What _is _the matter?" Arthur asked.

"Harry, how could you do this?" Hermione demanded, also standing up.

"Well, there are certainly a lot of chairs to choose from now!" Arthur joked.

"_WHO WANTS HORS D'OEUVRE_S?" shouted Mrs. Weasley over the chaos.

And apparently, these folks all ready knew her cooking, because the anger stopped for a brief interlude as they all ran to get in line for food.

Suddenly, Mrs. Weasley was my hero.

**.a few minutes later.**

I piled artichoke dip onto my plate in silence, feeling all eyes glued to me. This was becoming the most awkward day of my life.

Finished getting snacks, I joined everyone in the living room. Ron glared at me sulkily, dipping a shrimp into cocktail sauce and then bit off its head in such distaste that I knew he were imagining it were me.

"So.. er, Draco... How have you been since school?" Ginny questioned slowly. Ron and Hermione stared at her as though she were insane.

"Fine... and you?"

"I'm still in school," she twittered.

"Yes, of course. Well, I mean, how has school been since I left?"

"Good, good. Professor Snape actually seems happy these days!" She piped up.

"Really?"

"Yeah. They finally let him have his Defense Against the Dark Arts position, although everyone says that's only because _You Know Who _is gone and there's no chance of him being a-"

Mrs. Weasley snorted. "Ginny! It's not polite to speak of such things!"

Everyone looked at me.

"Er, sorry? So anyway, Snape is happy."

Silence.

"So, Malfoy? What are you _doing _here, exactly?" Granger suddenly asked.

I turned around. "Lookie who's speaking to Draco! I thought that you'd given that nasty habit up, Granger!" (I know, I know. I could have been a bit more sensitive.)

Ron cleared his throat. "Please don't talk to her that way," he said.

"Ron, there's no need to protect me. Now, tell me what your intentions are, Draco? You can't really be here with Harry, can you?"

Ron stared at her.

"Ever heard of bisexual?" asked Harry. I could have killed him.

Ron coughed on his cheese crackers and set his plate down. "**I'VE HAD ENOUGH! ENOUGH, I TELL YOU**! First, I wake up early because my _brothers _have planted a Birthday Bomb in my pillow. Then, Neville Longbottom tries to steal my girlfriend for the hundredth time. And **NOW**, **NOW**, there's a **MALFOY** at my **FAMILY PARTY** and everyone's talking about **SNAPE AND BEING BISEXUAL!** **THIS IS THE WORST BIRTHDAY I'VE EVER HAD IN MY LIFE, AND YES, I'M INCLUDING LAST YEAR!"**

With that, he fled.

Mrs. Weasley sighed.

"There's a _Malfoy_ here?" asked Mr. Weasley.

"Just a moment," I stated, and without even considering that this was very out of character, I went after him.

Yes, I know. I would shame the Malfoy name, but honestly, I was getting a little tired of hiding something called _guilt._


	21. Something of a Religious Experience

**AN: **Our boy Draco ended the last chappie with a feeling of extreme guilt… Heh, funny how an author's true thoughts and emotions make it out onto the written page… What I mean is: I AM SO SORRY. It's been forever and two hours since I updated.

And I will now give you some excuses: I went to Japan as an exchange student for the summer. I've been in the process of applying to college. School has been busy. I wrote another fic and doted upon _it_ instead of this 'un. aaannd. I read the sixth book.

Do you believe me? No? That's okay. You can have your new chapter anyway.

ABOUT BOOK 6- SPOILERS! Two people spoiled it for me while I was in Japan. I was mad, but I loved the book still. I'm happy with J.K. for finally making it clear that Draco, in fact, is not dead. He has a soul. (Or a soul-ish _thing_.) And Hermione and Ron. Yay! gets glared at And Voldie as a kid! That scared the shikoku out of me! It was so… Law and Order, Special Victims Unit. You know, with the cave, and the little children that he _changed _forever with his perverse behavior?

Okay, we're done.

(Or not, 'cause….)

A RANDOM CRAZY ANNOUNCEMENT: I was looking up Tom Riddle info on Wikipedia online, and saw his birth date which made me want to look up Draco's. His birthday is June 5th. Mine is June 6th. I was squeeishly terrified, for I have lately been saying that I know a Gemini when I see one. I guess I do. eyes dart back and forth We share certain erratic tendencies, I suppose. I just hope I don't end up trying to kill old dudes. True dat. Yo.

Well. After that lovely assortment of useless information, I give you…

SAVING PREFECT GRANGER.

Gavin: It's about _bloody _time.

**Chapter Twenty One**

**OUTSIDE. TRYING TO FIND RON. THIS BACKYARD IS FULL OF WEEDS. WERE THIS MY BACKYARD, FATHER WOULD ORDER THE ELVES TO PICK THOSE WEEDS AT THE BREAK OF DAWN. AM I OFF SUBJECT? I THINK I AM.**

I tried to flatten the annoying voice that tsked at me inside my mind. That certainly makes me sound a bit mad. And perhaps I _am _mad.

Always listening to my father, trying to live up to the Malfoy name every second of my measly, artificial existence in which I've always longed for friends who wanted me because I was clever and interesting. **Not **because I have money. My stupid life in which I've always pretended to be a rebel, except I answer to everyone, and do exactly what they tell me. My life which I nearly ended in sixth and seventh year because I was being a show-offy, immature little prat.

In short, as I made my way through the Weasley's back yard, I had a moment of realization.

_I've always fancied Hermione Granger. Not because she changed her looks now, or anything of that sort. I fancied her back in first year, and from then on. But I never knew it._

_Until… that day in Sorceress Secret, where physical attraction **met **the feelings I'd had before- the ones I was too stupid to realise. And I've always wished to be mates with Harry and crew, because… because they _**stick up** _for each other. _

Sighing, I rubbed my hands together in the cold. I'd never had quite a life changing discovery before, besides the time when I smashed the mirror because I finally saw that when I slicked back my hair, I looked like a silly little loon. (My hand still throbs every time I see my reflection.)

"Shit, shit, shit," I sang aloud, because, really, when one has such a life changing discovery, they must say _something _intelligible. And to make matters worse, I could clearly see Weasley clinging to a tree straight before me. He looked utterly distraught.

My stomach sank. I knew the feeling. But he did not know that I'd known the feeling. And until this very moment, _I _had not thought about knowing that I knew that I'd know that feeling. I wondered if he knew _that_…

Shaking my head, I tried to collect myself. Even though I'd just had something of a Muggle Religious Experience, I had to keep Malfoy Cool if I were to remain a not-so-undercover Undercover Agent. (Oh! I _so _want a theme song! And I _will _get one!)

In an instant, I gathered up my wits (or lack thereof), and stalked toward the tree.

Ron heard my footfalls and looked up. "No," he said firmly. "**NO. Just leave me be!** You _and_ your bisexuality!"

I sighed outwardly, and continued toward him.

"Stop!" he yelled, holding out a hand as though I were carrying with me a most terrible cold virus.

Thinking that it would probably be best to halt before I was attacked, I _did _stop. I stood and stared unblinkingly at Ron, trying to think of how to begin.

"Weasley…"

It was a fantastic start, I think, especially since for one of the few times in my life, I'd said his name correctly.

"Just shove off!" Ron cried out, and I could hear in his voice just how very distressed he was.

"Weasley!" I said again, this time more urgently. "It's a lie!"

"_What's a lie_?" he spat, turning around in full and glaring daggers at me. Snow flurried down around us.

I shrugged. "The bisexuality thing. It's a complete false."

"**Ha**! Even _I'm _smart enough to know it exists," Ron snorted.

"No. _I'm _not bisexual, Weasley"

Ron paused, and looked irritated. "I **knew **that." His brow furrowed. "Wait- what?"

"Your brother and Potter made that up to sneak me into your birthday," I explained slowly, figuring that it would be best to tell a least a bit of the truth. I walked over to Ron since he had forgotten he was trying to keep me away.

"So they **did **want to ruin my birthday!" Ron snarled. "Someone does every year, you know. I was just wondering last night what wonderful things they'd all plan this year." He crossed his arms moodily. "But it wasn't just one thing. Everything's been ruined _this_ year."

"Why do you say that?"

"Didn't you listen to a word I said in there? Fred and George put these loud things in my pillow that burst off at one AM screaming that it was _Ronnie's _birthday. From there, I found out that Hermione had spent the day yesterday at Neville's house. And then, _you _showed up."

"And that's all I had to do to make you mad?" I questioned sadly.

"Well, _that _should go without saying!" He unfolded his arms, and looked inquiringly at me. "Why _are _you here, anyway?"

"I knew it would come to this."

"Yeah, normal people don't just go to their enemy's birthday bash, Malfoy."

"I suppose not."

We stared at each other for a full two minutes before finally, I cleared my throat and began.

"So. Percy- and Potter- have been trying to improve me."

"_Excuse me_?" Ron scoffed. "Improve you? Who would be dumb enough to try?"

"Obviously, **your** brother and **your** best friend," I spat.

"Oh." Ron became silent and kicked a little pebble with his toe.

"_Anyhow, _they have been helping me. Apparently, they thought that there was some good in me and they have been attempting to make me a normal person."

"**Ha, ha, ha**!" Ron roared, which I did not think was very nice. "Good in you? That's hysterical! Honestly, I marked Percy for being more intelligent than that! Maybe a bit gung-ho and scary sometimes, but at least _intelligent_. You know, Malfoy," he stated, looking at me angrily. "It really couldn't be enough satisfaction for you that your life is perfect. You just have to ruin mine, as well. I've never had a nice, normal birthday. I'm certain _your _birthdays have never been awful-"

"Now, see here, Weasley! You don't know a thing about me!"

"Yeah, _what _happened, then? Was your mother two minutes late with your cake? Did they forget to buy you that million-billion galleon broom you wanted?"

I began to shout. "**Look, **you don't know what you're saying! You should be **happy **about your life- your mother, father, and all your siblings who care about you! At least they're _here _for your birthday!"

Ron's eyebrow twitched. "_What_? Malfoy, I guess I didn't think… I- I thought you got everything you wanted! That you were spoiled and mean-"

"I know I've been rude, but honestly, I'm not really wicked, I just-"

"But, I know you tried to kill people a lot while we were in school." He scratched his chin. "_A lot. _But then, you didn't actually kill anyone, and that really confused me."

"Why do you _think_ I _refrained_ from killing people?"

"Because you didn't know how?"

"That isn't what happened at all, you just don't even-"

-"But Harry said-"

"**IT DOESN'T MATTER-**" I shouted, and then took a breath and continued-" why I didn't succeed. All that matters is that I _didn't. _Succeed, that is."

Ron blinked.

"Look, Weasley, I'm not evil!"

"That's the funniest thing I've heard all day, not that I've heard a lot of funny-"

"I _cannot _believe that Ronald Weasley was the _only _person present for the _most _impressive declaration of my _entire _life," I hissed, and whipped around.

"Wait! You mean it?"

I turned around. "Yes!"

"Oh! Sorry, I thought, you know- you're pretty much the most evil person I know, but now that you're not evil, it would have to be my brother Bill."

I stared at him.

"Yes, well, don't ask. He just stole… someone from me, that's all." He shuffled around uncomfortably. "Heh, heh, never mind that. So, you aren't evil? Truly?"

"I just recently discovered that. I'm also a bit shocked."

"Seriously." Ron frowned thoughtfully. "So, Professor Snape…?"

"What?"

"Is he…?" Ron's eyes darted from side to side. "_evil_?" he whispered quietly.

(Dear, oh dear, this poor young man has a severe problem.)

"No," I stated firmly. "And he clearly has not been evil for awhile, don't you remember…?"

"Of course, of course! I just wasn't certain, you know… Thought I'd get the scoop from the real deal, you know what I mean?" He laughed uncomfortably.

"What is _that _supposed to mean? Look, just because I was a Death Eater does _not _mean I am evil!" I declared.

"You were a _Death Eater_?" Ron shouted.

"**Does anyone tell you _anything_**?" I shouted back.

"No, it's sort of a family joke," he said. "Like, '_ho, ho! Don't tell Ron! That'll make it funny!' _"

"I'm sorry…" I trailed off. "But, that _was_ kind of all over the news."

Ron rolled his eyes. "I apologise for not reading about your five minutes of fame, blimey!"

"Never mind!" I exclaimed. "Look, now that you know all of this, are you going to let me back in your home and believe that I don't want your family cursed?"

"I suppose… But, why do you suddenly want to be in our group?"

I stared at my hand. "It's not a sudden thing, Weasley. Let's just keep it at that."

"Right," said Ron, and we had a nice, gruff, straight male kind of understanding, if that makes any sense, which it doesn't, except at the same time, it does. "So, Percy and Harry are your friends now?" he asked slowly.

"Yes, I suppose."

"And they believe you?"

"Yes."

"Well, then…" He cleared his throat, and then stuck out his hand, giving me a sheepish smile. "I still have my doubts, but if _Percy _let you over here, you must have some redeeming quality. Either that, or you're just super boring, but…"

I shook his hand.

"It's just kind of pathetic how they treat you better than me," Ron grinned, shrugging. "It kind of takes away a man's confidence, you know what I'm mean?"

I shook my head. "Trust me, they give me Hell. I mean, look what they gave me to wear!"

Ron suddenly paid attention to the fluffy blue jumper. "Erm… I think that's mine," he stated, frowning, and said nothing more on the subject.

"Oh."

We walked back toward The Burrow, Weasley bracing himself for more family fun, no doubt.

**.inside.**

"Look who's back," Hermione muttered when we walked in. "I'll get you your coat, Malfoy."

"How subservient of you," I replied quietly, and then thought _NO. STOP SPEAKING TO HER LIKE THAT. YOU'VE HAD A RELGIOUS EXPERIENCE AND WE CANNOT HAVE THAT ANYMORE!_

Her mouth twinged in anger. But who was she _kidding? _My _coat? _Like I would believe her getting me my _coat. _

"No need to, Herm," Ron said casually, not hearing the last bit of dialouge. "We blokes worked out the matter. He can at least stay for cake, don't you think?"

Hermione, Ginny, Molly, and Harry gaped at this comment. In fact, Harry even dropped a pumpkin pastie onto the maroon carpet.

"Good man, Ron," Percy nodded, the only calm person present. "I was wondering at what age you'd be when you grew up."

Ron's face reddened as if he were about to become angry, and then he exhaled.

"Thanks, I guess," he said.

The room's atmosphere immediately changed. Mister Weasley began to tell funny stories about Muggle artifacts that had been bewitched- an evil hair dryer that spit fire, to name one. Molly put on the radio and bantered happily to Percy, while Ginny and Hermione spread out on the floor and laughed.

Hermione shook her long locks and grinned, coming out of a good giggle and her eyes fell upon me. It became clear to her that I had been staring at her, and she moodily turned away.

Sighing, I looked off into the distance, thinking how funny this situation was. And how screwed up my life had gotten.

_Come on. _I am _in love _with my enemy's gal pal- my enemy who is now homosexual and, just two hours ago, was pretending I was his _boyfriend, **and NOW **_we're pretty not even _enemies _anymore. And I just made up with my enemy's _other _friend, who I have beaten up (or gotten beaten up _by, _but same difference) on _several _(twenty nine and a half) occasions. Annnd, I'm friends with his older brother, who was a disgrace to his entire family months ago, but now it's all perfectly dandy.

Except the part about my enemy's gal pal who I am in love with. Yes, now, even though everything is starting to make sense- I have friends who don't just hang out with me when I have candy-, the one thing that began it all is incomplete.

So, when Hermione got up from her place on the floor and announced that she needed some fresh air, I took this as a sign from **_someone _**(but NOT Lord Voldemort. Definitely not THAT jumped up old fogie.) that this was my chance to go speak to her.

**.outside…. because, I considered leaving this as a cliff hanger and then I realised that the idea was foolish to the tenth power, and also EVIL with a capital E, and although Draco and I are zany Geminis, we wouldn't do that. Or, I wouldn't, at least…**

**SO.**

**/end random author's note.**

**.outside.**

I grabbed the annoying scarf. It was white and therefore fashionably unappealing, however, necessary, for the snow was falling in heavy amounts now. I swung it around my neck, and walked casually out the front door, just behind her. I shut the door as quietly as possible.

Granger whipped around. "_If you think_ that just because Ron's suddenly gone mad and has become your best friend, I will start liking you, then you have another thing coming, **Malfoy**!" she shouted, pointing at me. "I don't care if Percy and Harry find you to be a changed man, either. I think they're all stupid, honestly. Stupid for believing you and believing your acting skills!"

"Granger, come now! Do you _really, honestly _think that Percy would have invited me here if he thought I was bad? And, I don't have any acting skills! Don't you remember third year, when I told everyone the hippogriff had killed me, yet I was walking around and breathing? Sadly, I have no acting skills."

Her eyes narrowed. She wanted to spite me, I could tell. But no one could deny that I had terrible acting skills.

Instead, she changed the subject.

"Why can't you leave us alone? Don't you have something _else _to do?"

"Not really."

"I find that _very _hard to believe. What about shopping with your beautiful mother, or going hunting in the Icelandic wilds with your strong, brilliant father?"

"My father does not hunt!"

"Well, he _should_, then!"

"What are you implying?"

She snorted. "That you should hurry home to your rich, fashionable, and Pure-blooded family, you two-timing, murderous asshole!"

With that, she flung back her hair, and walked away briskly in the rapidly falling snow.

"Wait!" I pleaded, and followed her. She broke into a run, and I caught up to her and grabbed her around the waist.

"_Let go!"_ she commanded, pulling away, and in doing so, she toppled onto me, and we both fell backward into a snow drift.

For a moment, we sat there silently. But then, I couldn't help myself- I began laughing.

She struggled to get up and fell back on top of me. "Shut up, you!" she said, and rolled onto the ground, getting up and standing over me. "_You_ are an idiot," she declared, and then she knelt down, gathered up an armful of snow, and dumped it over my face.

"Holy Salazaar!" I cried out, trying to cover my head as the freezing matter made contact with my skin. I scrambled up, and made my own snowball, thrusting it at her. It bounced off her chest.

"I guess your aiming isn't much better than your acting, Malfoy," she voiced solemnly. And then she started to giggle.

"And you say _I'm _evil," I stated, shaking my head slowly.

"I am _not _evil," she argued. "Just a little malicious at times."

"Sure," I nodded. "That makes me feel loads better."

Hermione paused, and looked at me seriously again. "What do you want?" she inquired.

"I suppose I just want you to give me a chance. Will you hear me out?"

She thought for a moment, and then nodded. "I guess you deserve that, if anything. But not now. This is not the time. I'll meet you in Diagon tomorrow. Do you know that Chinese restaurant-"

"I know it well."

"Tomorrow at four thirty?"

"What about eight?"

She smiled slightly. "No. This isn't a date, Draco. Don't be silly." With that, she walked back inside.

I did, as well. And as much as I tried to focus upon the words of "_Happy Birthday", _I had other things to fathom.


	22. Pathetic

**Note: **Thanks for the wait! I have happy news: _Saving Prefect Granger _is nominated for best Hermione/Draco fic in three categories on a Hermione+Draco fansite. Email me/ ask in signed review for details. Thanks to who ever nominated me!

Please show some love and review! Happy reading!

**Chapter 22- Pathetic**

**-in which things become a little bit _angsty_-**

**3:45 pm. AT HOME. GETTING READY TO LEAVE.**

_Finally_, I thought to myself. _I am finally going somewhere. _(Literally, too, as I was walking through the hallway at the time.) I had decided upon dress slacks and a black silk shirt, hair smoothed forward so that my bangs brushed over my eyes. Unlike at the party, I looked _so fresh and so clean._

_The party… _It was so surreal, but from the point where Hermione and I went back inside the house until the end, it was really, really fun. And I'm not mincing words. The twins showed up with a slightly droopy children's style layer cake, but it was decorated in Chudley's Cannons figures and Ron was quite pleased. I think for at least** that** night, the Twins verses Ronald problem had been solved. Ginny talked to me a bit more, and told me about her classes. She seems to be the only one without pre-determined judgments about me, probably because she secretly wants to have my children. (Come on! Why else?)

I walked nonchalantly through the second corridor and down the stairs, when Father's cane suddenly came out in front of me just as I was going to step to the carpet.

I rolled my eyes and looked at him. "What's all this?" I asked, smirking, determining that he was either nosing about or wanting me to get some sort of weird thing for him while I was out.

"You don't know?" he asked. His expression was _not _friendly. "I'm disappointed in you."

"So, what else is new?" I said, losing my pleasantness a bit. _I don't need this now._

"**Nothing's new. **_That's the **problem**_," he snarled, cane still in place.

"Spare me," I snorted, and walked around the stick.

_WHACK._

Father rapped me smartly in the chest. Fighting the urge to cry out, I instead questioned, "Didn't your psychiatrist teach you _anything? _I thought you were told not to do that anymore!"

"This is **my **manor, and you will abide by **my **rules, and when I decide to help you, I think you should be intelligent enough to treat me with **respect **and start _attending classes that I pay for!"_

"I haven't missed cl-" I began, and then paled. Something told me that there was a beginning of term exam I hadn't quite made it to. _When _though?

"Perhaps your professor has made a mistake and counted you absent. Perhaps your test was also misplaced. Can you attest to the fact that you were, indeed, present?"

My stomach was slowly sinking.

"No."

"_Real-ly?"_

"**Yes!"**

"You are a Malfoy, and should act as one. When I hear that you have been gallivanting about instead of attending important exams that may, indeed, impact the course of your life, you **shame **my family. You **shame **_your _family."

"I-"

"You disobeyed the Dark Lord not so long ago. Are you going to disobey _me _now?"

"Father, he wanted me to kill someone, you don't-"

"And you _did not. _**And we _lost. _**I have long since forgiven you, but acting up again… Tsk, tsk, it makes me recall unfortunate incidents of the past."

My face was growing hotter by the minute. My lip trembling, I started to raise my voice:

"**Just because you were stupid, and got caught, does NOT mean that you can blame the Dark Lord's fall on me! And besides, it's not like you really supported him- you hated him, too-"**

"I _never_!"

"**You liar**!"

"You are a _child, _and you showed your naïve nature when you were faced with the elderly headmaster- _I've _killed babies-"

"Yeah? And does that make you feel _proud? _You know, lately people have been telling me I look like you, and I _don't want to. _So you being angry with my decisions makes me happy. Because it shows that we are **not **alike."

I stormed out of the foyer; he was shooting spells at my back but I waved them away. I was not expecting the confrontation. But I didn't want to let it go any further.

**.few minutes later. at the restaurant. **

The _little _run-in with Father had certainly messed me up. We hadn't had one of those sort of arguments for a long time- almost a year. It seemed we'd both agreed upon disagreeing and that was that. But, obviously he was still sore. Still, I couldn't believe how stupid I was to miss an exam. Father's not there (in a mental sense) enough to realise that I was totally sabotaging his way of life. If he found out where I had been all of those times… I don't know _what _would happen.

Filled with thoughts of my dreaded sixth year task and the war, I headed into the Chinese restaurant.

There sat Hermione, hands folded properly before her upon the table, staring out ahead with an intricate expression in her eyes. She was beautiful as ever, her dark hair flowing over her dark green top.

I decided to try and pull myself together. Sitting across from her at the red booth, I inquired, "Waiting for someone?

Granger jumped. "_God, Malfoy!_ I thought you were trying _not _to be creepy anymore."

"Creepy? Ha! I've never been _creepy. _I think you're looking for wickedly _suave, _or evilly _handsome_."

"I wasn't, but… You tried." She pushed a bang out of her eyes. "So… You are precisely ten minutes late. I was about to leave, but then I decided to hold of, being that I've never lunched with a Slytherin before- obviously, you weren't too serious about this little get-together… Or perhaps Slytherins believe in a customary rule of always arriving late, hmm?" She stopped and stared at me, a small grin taking hold of her lips.

I cringed, but regained composure. "Well… In all actuality, Lucius and I had a slight misunderstanding which led to precious time being wasted. Are all Gryffindors this impertinent?"

Hermione shrugged innocently. "I wouldn't know, actually. I don't stalk Gryffindors, nor do I stalk their friends. I do not invite myself to birthday parties of Gryffindors, and I don't wear outfits _belonging _to Gryffindors. If I knew someone who _did, _I'd ask him for you, but he's being difficult right now- can I get back to you on that?"

Despite myself, I sniggered. She smiled, but covered her mouth with the menu. _Pansy would be lost after all of this. _I went from feeling extreme humiliation from my dick of a father to exhilaration. I could have snogged her right there, but she may have protested, being that there were so many people around.

"Dudes, welcome," greeted the same weirdo who had pushed the rice last time. This time, his shirt read _'Barty Junior For Azkaban! Only _**War**_-Locks Would Say Different!'. _

"Thank you… Not to be rude or anything, but aren't your shirts a bit outdated?" I inquired slowly.

Hermione kicked me from under the table.

He looked down at his chest, as though he had forgotten what he was wearing. "Hell, no, _man_. I _wish_ they were, man." He gestured to the words on his tee. "See this? This kid tortured some people and he's on _trial_, that donkey." I raised my eyebrows at Hermione, who was keeping a very straight face. "And they still haven't caught that guy who blew up his friend. You know what they said about that?" He suddenly grew very impassioned, raising his voice and waving his arms around as he screamed: **"They say he killed his friend, and only left a** **finger! A _FINGER! _**_That poor slob never saw it coming!" _ With that, the waiter grabbed our menus and fled. I was certain I heard him sobbing as he ran to the kitchen.

"Don't you suppose we should tell him that-"

"No," she replied.

"Does this mean he's choosing what we eat?"

"Most likely." She wrung her hands. _Why was she so nervous? _ "So, Malfoy. It's been a few hours since our awkward jaunt in the snow, and even more time since the annoying meeting in the club, and lots of time has passed since you interrupted my date in town, and an unmentionable amount of time went by since we met in a lingerie shop, where you were buying for your lovely Mum. And do you remember the time before that?"

Blankly, I tried to keep up. "I don't reckon…"

"Oh, well, let me help you!" she exclaimed.

Somehow I knew this wasn't going to be good.

She leaned forward. "It was our last day of school."

"About that," I put in quickly, "it was a reflection of my immaturity at the time and it in no way tells anything about howI am lately-"

"_Our last day of school_," she repeated, eyes ablaze. "Do you remember what your last words were to Harry, Ron and I?"

I snorted. "That? Well, it wasn't all too memorable, as I didn't mean any of it- I was only attempting to make a joke, I never-"

"Let me refresh your memory," she stated calmly. "We'll begin with Harry, as you did. You started the whole speech off by hitting him with a tripping curse. While he was down on the ground you said, and I repeat- 'It's been a great seven years beating you at everything, Potter. My only hope is that your parents would have lived to see what a failure you've become. You tried to save Black, and Fudge, and countless other people but you didn't. How depressing. Well, I'd better go. My _parents _are waiting for me, as _parents _do, but you wouldn't know.'"

I opened my mouth to interject, but she kept right on talking.

"Shall we go to Ron? Good! You turned to him next and said 'I'm sorry that bonking a Mudblood lowered your status here at school, but what did you think it would do? If you thought that getting off about Hermione Granger would make you more popular here, you were vastly mistaken. I hope you took a bath. You might have a disease. Say hello to your ten thousand siblings and your desperate parents.'"

"I-"

"And _let's see_… What did Draco Malfoy say to _me_?" She looked up, cocking her eyebrow in mock thought. "Oh, _yes! _He grabbed me by the hair as I was leaving, and told me to 'forget all about magic, as dirty blood never gets anywhere anyway. You'd be much better as a whore, that way you could pay people to use you like everyone in this school has, making you believe you're brilliant so they can steal your exams. Have fun this summer trying to make your teeth look smaller. And perhaps you can find someone to tame that rat nest on your head.'" With that, she finished the story, a cold and triumphant look in her eyes. "Do you see, Malfoy, why perhaps I had a hard time believing that you are _reformed? _Do you see why I still may have suspicions? Do you see why everyone _hated you_?"

"But, I…! I never meant any of that! I mean, your teeth looked fine- your hair on the other hand- I mean! I mean, I didn't mean any of those things! Don't you see that I was completely lost and my father had blamed me for the losing the war the previous year and I hated everyone in my family for being what they were and the only reason I ever attacked you or your friends was because I admired you- I mean, come on! I _never _beat Harry and I know you wouldn't let Ron have sex with you-" she narrowed her eyes-" That is.. I didn't think it was _really _true, we can talk about that some other time, and I really had absolutely no problem with your teeth, your hair, or anything, I was just really angry because you were so smart and you defied everything Father and Mother told me and I hated myself because- because-…" I stopped, and sighed.

Hermione was staring at me intently. "No, please go on," she said softly.

"I had a thing for you." (It wasn't a lie… The _had _was sort of a lie, but this was all ready going to be extremely problematic. We'd leave that for a bit later.)

Her mouth dropped open. "You did _not."_

"I did. I was just really stupid."

"Obviously, but- oh my God, I never imagined… I mean, I thought of that a few times, but I never believed it!"

"Are you serious?"

"Well, yes, how else would it explain you being so obsessed with me and my friends? I actually had a theory that you were bisexual and in love with Ron, Harry, Pansy, Snape and I."

"**NOT THE BISEXUAL THING AGAIN! **And **_Snape_**? Good Salazaar, _whhhy_?"

"Because it was sort of funny, that's why, but… Oh Merlin! I can't believe you're telling me this! After all of this time, finally the mystery of Malfoy is solved. But, that only explains a bit of it, you see. Why were you assisting Voldemort and why were you always doing ridiculous stunts, and why were you such a prat?"

"Answer one: because my parents made me, answer two: because I was a prat, and answer three: because I was always doing ridiculous stunts, I guess."

"Well, weren't you pretty smart? Why were you always such a conformist?"

"I'm extremely smart. I was just dominated by a lot of people."

"Can't you think for yourself?"

My face flushed. "_Yes!" _I declared. "Of course I can. I was just really idiotic back then, but don't you think you could forgive me and perhaps make friends?" _And love._

"You're really lucky, Malfoy. It isn't in my nature to be cruel. I will accept your invitation to peace, late as it may be. But if this all turns out to be some sort of lark or worse, you will _pay._"

"I promise this isn't a game," I responded quickly. "You… you don't think I'm pathetic, do you?"

"Yes," she said," but my idea of pathetic differs a lot from yours, as I myself am surrounded by brilliant but rather pathetic people whom I adore… and whom am was one with. We're all a little pathetic, Malfoy. You just need to find your niche."

Those were the greatest words I had heard in a while, though I simply nodded.

"I must say, Granger, you have a disturbingly accurate memory."

"_Oh_, you should hear Ron and Harry- they get uptight about all of the things I remember and they argue with me for _hours! _They used to, anyway.."

"Two orders of the special toasted duck, just as you ordered," announced the waiter, who seemed to be all better now.

"Lovely, thanks," Hermione said, smiling up at me as she said it.

I had to wonder…

The rest of the meal went on without any intensity, save for when we debated about whether or not Hagrid was a good teacher. My argument was that he was a murderer, and actually wanted to kill us all with random beasts. She saw otherwise.

When we finished, I offered to pay, although she refused and paid half of the toll.

I walked her outside. "Well, Granger, it's certainly been an intriguing afternoon."

"It has, and I hope we can talk more soon."

_Did she mean it?_

"I've one last question, though."

"Go for it, then."

"Did_ you_ happen to have any feelings for _me_ in school?" I asked. Sometimes my courage is even too great for _me._

She bit her lip and fingered her hair. _Oh, no! She's going to reject me!_

But _then, _I actually used my _mind. _She was playing with her _hair._ _'…perhaps you can find someone to tame that rat nest on your head…' _ In Sorceress' Secret, her hair… sleek and shiny. It was no longer wild.

"Look, Malfoy…"

"Your _hair_!" I said aloud.

She stopped playing with it and stared. Her face grew a bright crimson. _"I don't know what you're on about. I'd better go. Nice night!"_

Hermione Granger rushed away.

She'd changed her hair for me.


	23. Pansy Pwns

**Note: **Glad you enjoyed the last chapter! Thanks again for the reviews. I'm especially excited about this one. Lyrics belong to me.

**Chapter 23**

_Percy,_

_I believe I have cracked Hermione Granger. We met for lunch, and she seemed quite angry at me and went on for quite awhile… But to make a long story shorter, she then reminded me how I told her to change her hairstyle (or something like that) on the last day of school. And she changed it. When I questioned her about it, she ran off._

_I am hoping she changed it for me._

_Regards,_

_D.M._

_**Dear Malfoy,**_

_**Are you certain? Do not get your hopes up so soon. We must do more detective work. And if you wish for her to like you, you need to get rid of something. **_

_**Someone, actually.**_

_**Your "girlfriend. **_

**_Also, you hadn't mentioned that you told Hermione you _used _to love her. What's all that? _**

_**Sincerely,**_

_**Percy Weasley**_

_Percy,_

_You are most correct. _

_And… I hadn't gotten around to mentioning it. I didn't tell Hermione I am currently into her, because that would surely be bad. What if she didn't feel the same?_

_But what did she say?_

_Regards,_

_D.M._

**AROUND 6 PM. **

I set down the letter I had just finished for Weaseley. I was really excited over what had occurred between Granger and myself. It seemed a _very _good sign. But, Percy was right, as I had written to him: For this plan to work out, I needed to be available. And available did _not _include Pansy Parkinson.

Actually, a relationship hadn't really included her either, as I had spent half of the time we'd dated either hiding in the loo or pretending to lose her.

I headed up to my room, where I had placed the house key she'd issued me in my dresser. Grabbing the key, I headed off to her apartment.

_What would she say, though? _I had a horrible feeling she would either…

**A: **Cry for a long time, and I'd have to waste my time consoling her.

**B: **Get really mad and try to burn out my eyes and do that thing where the woman throws all of the man's worldly possessions out of the window onto the lawn. (even though I had nothing over there, it was still possible.)

**C: **Kill me.

And I didn't want to die. Yet I understood why Pansy would want to hurt me. She would be so upset when I told her. After all, I'd always leant her a shoulder. I'd accompanied her to two dances. The _only _two she'd been to. I had spent countless minutes listening to her idiotic drabble, and I hadn't been to mean to her.

We'd been together since first year, where she looked like an English Pug and I looked like hottest boy in school. We'd worked for hours on homework for Potions, History of Magic, and DADA. We'd made fun of so many teachers together, from Flitwick falling off his chair to Lupin being a hobo to McGonnagal being an old hag. She had been with me through thick and thin. (Thick being Crabbe and Goyle. Thin being Michael Corner. You could see right through that little twerp.)

I'd been an excellent boyfriend, and she was going to miss me so much. I just hoped for her sake that she wouldn't need therapy.

**7:15 pm. OUTSIDE PANSY'S APARTMENT.**

**Knock knock knock.**

(That was the only way I could describe myself knocking on her door. Sorry.)

No one was answering, and I had been at it for about twenty seconds. I am impatient.

I pressed my ear up to her keyhole. Loud music was coming from inside.

_Fine time for a party. Now I'll have to upset her before a crowd._

I knocked again and then began to bang on the door.

Nothing.

I sighed, and opted for the creepy solution: I opened her door with the key like it was my own home.

After stepping inside, I was hit by the deafening sound of the music. What was it? It was like… some sort of acoustic, whiney mush. A woman's voice warbled depressingly.

"**Pansy**!" I shouted, wandering into the living room, peering into the kitchen.

Suddenly I heard voices.

_Oh, shoot, I'm just like Father. _

_Wait! _They were real! I heard a woman's voice. And then, the unmistakable laugh of Pansy Anita Parkinson:

"_Hee hee heeeeeeee!"_

What…?

"**PANSY!**" I called, stepping into the hallway toward her bedroom.

"I think I just heard a man!" declared the woman's voice.

The bedroom door flew open as I was still a few feet from it.

"**OY**!" shouted the woman, and she stepped out into the hall.

Good… Lord… Voldemort…

It was a huge woman, black hair falling over her shoulders, eyes angry, arms pretty muscular, wearing only a bra and jeans.

"_Mill- Millicent?" _I managed to get out. "Millicent! Hello. I'm just here to see Pansy." I smiled.

She glared. "_Knock _next time." She put her hands on her hips. I tried not to look at her breasts. But they were out there.

And that's when I noticed Pansy, cowering behind Millicent and wearing a bed sheet. "Who's there, Millie?"

"I think he's here for you," Millicent stated plainly, and shrugged. "Sorry, Draco." As she stood back for Pansy to move through, I wondered what she was sorry for.

"_Oh_," Pansy said. "I'm not really decent, but you probably don't mind, do you?"

"What's… going on? Are you two listening to some music? You should really turn it down, actually," I suggested.

Millicent shook her head. "You are so naïve, Draco Malfoy. He's all yours, Pans. I _told _you to tell him before he came crawling here like a poor little Elf. I'll wait for you, okay?" She retreated into the bedroom.

_Ahem… ELF?_

Pansy gave Millicent a Look before turning back toward me. "Hi, Draco," she said, a bit _too _warmly, grasping the sheet around herself.

"Hello?"

"I'm really sorry. I should have told you."

I blinked. "You need to be a bit more specific…"

"_Har har har,_" whooped Millicent from the bedroom.

"Quiet, you!" Pansy giggled, blushing furiously. "Draco, have you ever heard of bisexual?"

I sighed. "I've gone over this **so **many times. I am **not **queer at all. And you should be a bit more accepting, considering you've got your lesbian friend waiting for you in the bedroom."

_Lesbian friend waiting for you in the bedroom…_

_Draco, have you ever heard of bisexual?_

"Oh! Oh!" I pointed at her. "You! _You're _bisexual! You weren't making fun of me at all!"

"Yes, well done, you!" she exclaimed, in a way that just might have been _sarcastic_. I put that idea out of my head immediately.

"And… Millicent is…"

"My girlfriend. I'm so sorry, Malfoy. I should have said something. You know, it started in school, when we were study partners for Potions in second year. I had feelings for her, but I didn't quite know how to express them. I should have let on, because the thing is, I really didn't feel _right _with you a lot of the time. I mean, yes I'm bi, but she is the one for me. You were always sort of like the brother I never had."

"**Millicent! Can you turn that bloody racket down? I thought I just heard Pansy say you were her _girlfriend!"_**

"You _did_," Pansy declared.

"Oh."

"_Har har har…"_

"I-" I paused. _This wasn't supposed to happen. How? What…?_

"I'm so sorry."

"**No! **You don't understand! I came here to break up with _you! _I came here to tell _you _I thought we were never right for each other. You're the _sister _I never had, expect that's disgusting because we've snogged a lot, but still…You're supposed to be crying now, and throwing stuff at my head!"

She looked very sympathetic. "I'm not sad, though."

"You didn't have to say that. Now I'm cut really deep."

"Aw, Draco, you'll always be my Drakie." She hugged me. "I'm _glad _you wanted to call it quits. It makes life a lot easier for me."

"I'm so glad," I said sourly.

"Awwww."

"Hey, it's fine. It's absolutely fine. Now I can get on with my life."

"That's right!" chimed in Millicent, our official Peanut Gallery.

"And Pansy, I think I'm happy for you, but I'm not quite sure yet."

"You're too sweet," she smiled.

"And something tells me you two are going to go at it the second I leave. I was wondering if-"

Millicent opened the door, and threw a shoe at my face. "NO. You **can't **stay."

"All right, that made the moment complete," I said, rubbing my nose and stepping out.

"Bye, Draco!"

"See ya, Malfoy! Sorry!"

I shook my head at my strange life as I shut the door. The booming loud music swirled around me, and suddenly, the lyrics were clear.

"_Back stab Randy cause she did the same to your sister and_

_Her Muggle microwave oven is radiating radiating radiatinnnnng…_

_And we're all falling down._

_And somebody's gotta play the clown_

_Cause we've all got a vengeance and we've all got an interest in forbidden love spells."_

**The Next Day.**

I had apparated home, to my room. I didn't want to deal with Father being an ass again. The day had all ready become much too confusing. Stretching out upon my bed, I pondered about the events that had taken place.

Father had become Father again. Hermione Granger was acting strange about her hair, and I might've had a lead. Pansy was a lesbian.

Wait- no. _Bisexual. _I had to work on these terms.

Millicent Bulstrode had stolen my girlfriend, but I really didn't care. They were both pretty hot. And besides, Pansy seemed way better with her. I mean, come on, _sarcasm? _With me, she couldn't grasp simple ideas.

Suddenly, I wondered if Pansy Parkinson _wasn't _stupid. Maybe I'd just taken everything she'd said to _be _unintelligent. It was a strange theory. But if I had been wrong about Ron, Harry, Percy, the Weasley family, Gavin, my father, and countless other people, perhaps Pansy was an okay girl. Perhaps I was just a bundle of negativity and hatred.

I sighed. I really didn't want to be like Lucius, but so far, I was doing a fairly good job being a first class idiot.

I went to sleep, got up the next morning, attended class, came home, studied, and went into my room to read when I heard a sound.

_Tap tap tap._

I looked over to the window where a Tawny owl was waiting. Yawning quietly, I stood up and ambled to the window, letting her in. Screeching, she dropped two envelopes and flew away.

One was clearly from Percy, as I'd grown accustomed to his stationary. The other envelope was devoid of any address. I opted for Percy's first, as I wanted to know the answer to my question.

_**Dear Malfoy,**_

_**She was quite frazzled, really. She came in bantering, not angrily but not at peace at all. She said that she wasn't certain what to think anymore- so many things had changed. A lot of it should be kept private. Though I do trust you, you must understand that she is my friend and what she says cannot always be revealed. **_

_**Also, I must mention Ron and Neville. How will you deal with them? Ron has gotten on Hermione's last nerve as of now, and Neville is preoccupied, which does not bother her. They have a very mature relationship. I know for a fact that she loves the both of them, but I do not quite know if she really feels either of them is "right" for her. She and Neville have a more open relationship, and Ron is… Ron. Really jealous and dense when it comes to important matters. **_

_**But none of this means you will succeed immediately. You have to show Hermione who you truly are. Quit it with the nastiness and be yourself, you great bugger!**_

_**Ha ha,**_

_**Percy**_

_**PS: Ginny says that if it takes a lot of effort to shake off Neville, she could be the secret weapon.**_

I shook my head. For A Prefect, he was quite loony. He'd basically told everyone on earth about the plan, though it really didn't matter much anymore. He made some points about Ron and Neville. Until now, I had not realised how much harder it was, now that Weasley and I were getting along fine. How could I tell him that I too loved Hermione? And hadn't he been with her for way longer?

But did that really matter?

And Neville! Without Hermione, he'd probably never have a girlfriend again! Wait…

I mentally shook myself. I didn't _really _mean it. Neville was smart. He was just a little clumsy (Understatement of the year.). But, having Ginny as the Secret Weapon sounded humorous, if anything else. You never knew when Percy Weasley was joking. It was simply his way.

Shrugging, I opened the other letter.

On blue stationary, cursive script read:

**Malfoy,**

**Since you will probably show up anyway, I figured perhaps I should invite you first. It would save everyone from a lot of confusion. Luna Lovegood is coming into town tonight, and tomorrow, we are to have a get-together at Neville's place. Harry, Ginny, Ron, Neville and a few others from Hogwarts will be there. I think it will please Luna to see that you are not being evil anymore, as she used to have these fantasies that you were actually an undercover member of Dumbledore's Army.**

**Refrain from any negative thoughts, as everyone has spread the word about Malfoy no longer being a callous prick. (Excuse the language.) **

**Today was intriguing, if nothing else. I am interested to see where this all goes. **

**Write back to R.S.V.P.**

**_Hermione Granger_**

_Good Salazar! _I thought in shock. _Hermione invited me! She believes me! She wants me there!_

Quickly, I broke out my good ink and scrawled out a reply:

_Granger,_

_Can't say I expected that. I would like to see Luna, as I owe her a few apologies. (A lot, actually.) _

_I am interested as well._

_Shall I bring anything?_

_-D.M. _

I yelled at my Eagle owl, Duke, to step on it a little and hurry up. He glared at me with those disturbing yellow eyes and flew off.

No more than fifteen minutes later, he returned, with another envelope in claw.

**Malfoy,**

**Bring nothing. I wouldn't ask for food because there are Elves slaving away, no doubt.**

**Don't disappoint me.**

**_Hermione Granger _**

_Granger,_

_Forgot you were on that Elf-Liberation kick; so sorry. You made buttons, correct? Why didn't you ask any Slytherins? Millicent's a lesbian- maybe she would have bought a button. Hippie-like and all.Is that wrong for me to say?_

_Just asking._

_-D.M._

**Malfoy,**

**I hadn't known she was. And yes, it sounds a bit stupid to say that because she is a lesbian, she would have bought a SPEW badge, because I'm certain I once saw her hitting a House Elf in the head with _Wanderings With Werewolves_. I didn't cater to Slytherins back then- all of that house rivalry and all. Besides, it was Slytherins who were the biggest perpetrators of Elf violence! Concur?**

**_Hermione_**

_Granger,_

_If my saying Millicent would have liked a badge was bad, isn't your saying that Slytherins dislike Elves and are evil the same thing? Looking back, I knew Slytherins who hated the treatment of House Elves, Blaise Zabini being one. Pansy sometimes thought they were cute, but that is beside the point. We needn't carry on house rivalry. That would make us my parents. _

_-D.M._

**Malfoy,**

**You certainly have become enlightened. What happened to you? I like it. It's like an episode of this Muggle telly show called "The Twilight Zone" where all of this bizarre stuff happens. EPISODE 89, MALFOY IS NICE. (That wasn't supposed to be cruel, I'm just trying to be funny.)**

**See you tomorrow at seven pm. Neville's place is: 787 Druid Way, Sheffield, Yorkshire. He is very optimistic, so when I told him what an improvement you've made, he was pleased.**

**_Hermione_**

Enclosed was a golden badge, with SPEW inscribed upon it. I put it on at once.


	24. In Gran's House, Too

**Remember-- vote on this story! Details are in my profile.**

**Chapter 24**

**6:39 pm. AT NEVILLE'S HOUSE.**

Neville Longbottom never struck me as the kind of person who lived a life of prosperity. From all I had gathered about him over the years, he was sort of a doofus who lived with his wacky grandmother and had nutcases for parents, and did not have any real luck with women, and had a host of other barmey relatives, and fell down. A lot.

Knowing all of this, I'd made an educated guess some time ago and decided that Neville Longbottom lived in a soggy cardboard box.

Apparently, I am sometimes wrong.

I was standing in front of a well-manicured lawn which was at the base of a tall, dark purple Victorian-style mansion. The front porch had a swing and a large, beautiful oak door. It was all actually very lovely.

I walked up the three steps leading to the front door, and rang the little bell.

_Ding-doo-da-ling-ding. Ding ding!_

How original.

The door opened.

There stood Granger. She looked absolutely gorgeous. Her hair was down and she was wearing a navy blue blazer and a gold choker.

"Draco," she smiled. "Come in. Hardly anyone is here yet, just Neville and-"

"Draco Malfoy! I have been anticipating your appearance!" Luna Lovegood popped her head underneath Hermione's arm. Her greenish blonde hair looked intriguing in long dreadlocks. She grinned. "Thank you so much for coming! You have made my existence on earth so complete!" She wore a shirt proclaiming '**SAVE THE GRINDYLOWS' **and tons of beads shimmered around her neck.

I stared. "Whoa."

"She's a little excited," whispered Hermione, and beckoned for me to come in.

"Nev, are you _certain _you don't need any help?" Luna inquired, winking at me and peering around a corner just ahead of us.

**CRASH!**

"Uh- I thought I 'ad it under control but… sure, why not?" came Longbottom's twittering voice from the direction she was staring.

I looked to Hermione in confusion.

"His gran is such a sweet woman—she made food for this evening, but…" Hermione lowered her voice. "_The only thing she can make without burning is cookies. So, we've a cookie dinner." _She giggled nervously.

"Cookies are fine by me," I shrugged.

"But he's a bit of a nervous Nellie- or a nervous Neville, if you will-" I sniggered-"so he's a little perplexed as to how he's going to make this work. He's in there attempting to make a full- course meal."

"Oh dear Lord."

"Yes, but you haven't even tasted his cooking," she whispered, making a face.

"I saw his Potions experiments. I can imagine."

Hermione stuck her tongue out at me and went ahead. (I never thought that such a gesture could be cute.)

The hallway was narrow and pictures lined the walls. The floors creaked, and the heads of wild beasts hung close to the ceiling. It smelled a lot like cookies.

She turned around to face me. "Since Nev's a bit preoccupied, I can give you the grand tour."

"Sounds good."

We walked past the kitchen, where it seemed there had been an explosion. Foam was covering the oven, pots were everywhere, and a mop was zigzagging to and fro. Neville and Luna stood in the midst of it, looking petrified.

"'lo Malfoy," Neville called out feebly.

"Longbottom," I asserted, nodding.

Hermione made a strange "hurrumping" sound and stared at him.

"Oh! Uhm- _hell-o, Draco_," he corrected, as though he had practiced a thousand times.

I stared at him.

There was an awkward pause, because the sound of Neville calling me by my actual name was extremely strange.

Hermione nodded at me.

"Eh- hello, _Neville_?"

He smiled and laughed.

Luna clapped. "Yay! We're all officially acquainted now! So, Draco! How do you feel about cookies and fried sludge for dinner?"

"_Luna_," Neville sighed and looked helpless.

"It's probably better than anything my family can make. My mother can't boil water, my Uncle Hagawthe's specialty is treating everyone to ice cream, and my father failed his Muggle Studies cooking course."

"As did I," said Neville sadly. "But, I'm glad I don't have to prove anything."

"Nothing at all," Hermione told him. "Draco's taking a tour of your home. Is there anything you wouldn't like us to see?"

Neville chuckled. "There's nothing 'e doesn't all ready know, is there?"

"Your Uncle is crazy, your grandmother wears lots of animal furs and probably has a ton of eerie hobbies and you have a very demented obsession with plants," I stated.

"Yes, he can see everything."

**7:02. UPSTAIRS.**

"This is my absolute _favourite _room," gushed Hermione, opening a pair of glass doors. We had seen the library, the study, his Gran's sewing "corner", and a host of other rooms, including the outdoor greenhouse. That alone could trigger a fascination with Herbology—it was beautiful.

We walked into an extensive hall that was all smooth wooden floors and dark purple walls. It had a dance floor, a piano, and other instruments.

"_Nice_," I said approvingly.

"Isn't it lovely? Neville plays the piano quite well, actually."

"Probably because he can't trip over it."

Hermione chortled. "Probably."

"So, do you two dance in here all of the time?" I inquired, staring at her.

She cleared her throat, straightened out her shirt with her fingers. "No, not _all _the time. Once or twice, though, but we really don't feel that way for each other anymore, I suppose. We have our differences."

"A grandma's boy, is he? And you're a career-driven, brazen woman who wants to see the world?" I questioned loudly.

"Well! He's not _just _a 'grandma's boy', but he definitely likes life more comfortable then I do. I mean, I want to see the world, or at least learn more. I like challenges. He likes… home."

I took a step near her, and she looked up quickly. "_I'm _a challenge," I smiled, putting one hand to the side of her face.

For a moment, she stared at me, and then she turned away. "Right, so, we should probably go see how the two of them are doing," she announced, and took off down the hallway.

Feeling a bit sheepish, I followed after her once more. We said nothing. I took it as a good sign, though, that she had not screamed at me.

Screaming—not so good.

We got off the grand staircase and headed down the main, winding hallway.

Hermione turned into the kitchen a moment before I had a chance to. She stopped in her tracks.

"What's—"I caught up to her and looked in.

Neville and Luna were kissing passionately right there in the midst of swirling mop and pots and pans.

"I'd say they're doing quite well," I observed.

"Oh dear!" Neville exclaimed, breaking away from Luna.

"Imagine, in Gran's house, too," I tutted.

Luna put her face in her hands. "_Hermione, I'm so sorry. I—I thought my feelings were gone, but—"_

Hermione was looking from Neville to Luna to me again and again.

"Herm—I didn't mean to—I really didn't—"

Hermione drew in her breath and smiled. "I don't know what you're all apologising for. I think you two have always made a good couple and I'm glad you're back together!"

"Really?" Luna asked, looking up slowly. Her face was still red.

"Of course!"

Neville still looked humiliated. "I guess this means you two want to go home. I'm so sorry for that—what with the food and the… antics, I 've been a 'orrible host!"

"Not really," I shrugged. "You should see the parties I'm used to. Hell. I've nothing else to do, so unless you and Lovegood _want _us to go home, we'll stay right here and have a cookie dinner!"

"Oh!" Neville looked at Luna. "Heh heh, you can stay, of course." He pretended to be fascinated with the floor.

Hermione nudged me and smiled appreciatively.


	25. Super Wicked Wow

**AN: **Well, sadly, I didn't win either of the three awards I was nominated for… But on the bright side, it got my name out and I've been getting quite a few hits for this story. So, keep reading, keep reviewing! I love this story and I love the funny reviews I get! I LOVE YOU!

And now that I'm outta Hell (aka high school), I can devote my life to better things… (Fic, sleep, making films, food… being a burden to society in general… etc.)

**Chapter 25**

**HALF AN HOUR LATER. MOST OF THE GUESTS HAVE ARRIVED.**

I glanced around the Longbottoms' fancy sitting room. There were quite a few guests, all making small talk and nibbling Gran's biscuits, which _were _in fact, quite delightful. Dean Thomas was by the mantle, talking to Seamus Finnigan. Harry, who was actually treating me with respect tonight and not calling me his _boyfriend_ was sitting next to me on the divan, where we were listening to Hermione tell about strange customers in Flourish and Blotts. A few Hufflepuffs I hadn't known (imagine that… Hufflepuffs are just _so interesting.. ha ha.._) were chatting with Luna. Neville didn't waste much time-- he had his arm around her all ready. I found it quite cute, probably due to the fact that Hermione was now open.

Open for Draco Malfoy, _hottest of the hot, boldest of the bold_, to make his move.

Suddenly, Harry winked at me and said," I think I'd fancy another cookie. Excuse me." He got up and slowly walked out of the room, making it just Hermione and me on the sofa. I tell you, he must have been reading my mind.

I never thought I'd say this in my lifetime, but bless him! **Bless Harry Potter!**

I suddenly had a feeling like I was going to be sick, and vowed to never, ever think those words again. Whatever the circumstance was. Never.

Ever.

"Are you ill?" Hermione asked suddenly, studying me with a bit of amusement in her soft brown eyes. She had one leg crossed over the other and was leaning forward.

"Wha- no! I just had a scary thought," I explained quickly.

"Aren't you _used _to those by now, Draco?"

"_Ooh_, snarky!" I declared, grinning. "I thought it was in Grangie's nature to be a nuturing, nice girl."

"Nuturing, nice girl?" she repeated. "Does Drakie play word games with the enslaved house elves when he's bored, or does he just say similar words all together in the same sentence to act witty?"

"Ha! Were you sniffing too much toothpaste at your parents' house? I _am _witty," I declared, arching my brow.

She sighed. "I know, I know. No matter _how _completely cruel your jokes were, they were all fairly clever."

"Wow… I can't believe you _admitted _that!" I whistled in an exaggerated fashion.

Hermione laughed and pushed my shoulder with her hand. "All right, then. It's _your _turn."

"My turn _what_?"

"Your turn to admit something about _me!"_

I stared at her. _Should I? _ It seemed sudden. We were _just _warming up to each other, and I wanted to win her trust before I told her anything of importance. Trust was definitely important.

I crossed my eyes. "What _is _this? Some sort of late night Gryffindor common room gabfest?"

"Don't you mean _girly Gryffindor gabfest_?" she offered slyly.

"Yes. **Exactly.**"

"All right, cut the moodiness and tell me something!"

I sighed. "_Fine_. Let me _think."_

"Hi! Mind if I butt in?" Luna asked excitedly, and apparently thinking we did not, she sat between us and smiled. "Oh, _Draco_, it's so exciting how nice you are!"

I remembered how easy it was to make her feel bad, and decided I had to make an extra effort to not make the same mistakes again.

"Eh? … Thank you," I said slowly. Hermione looked down. I hoped she was as disappointed as I was.

"So, what happened?" Luna questioned happily. "Did it just come to you? Or did it slowly happen, like… like, Ron's quidditch abilities!"

Hermione snorted and then regained her somber attitude.

"Actually, it came to me suddenly."

"_That _is amazingly fantastic!"

I chuckled uncomfortably.

"I mean, it's like _super wicked wow_!"

"Okay, Luna… Just because Draco's here doesn't mean he understand you yet," Hermione said quietly, patting her on the shoulder.

"Right," she said. Her face fell a little bit.

"Uh…"

The two girls stared at me.

"Since we're on the subject of… misunderstandings," I began hesitantly, focusing on the arm of the couch," I figure it's time for me to own up, Luna."

Her voice was low and interested. "To what?"

"You know how—" I struggled with how to admit my actions without sounding completely horrible—" how…" I paused.

"**_You _were the one who was spying on me while I was dancing in my new Mexican clogs!"** she yelled triumphantly, causing quite a few people in the room to glance at us momentarily. "I knew it! Didn't I tell you, Hermione?"

"Mexican _what_?" I asked. "No, it wasn't me… That's not what I was going to say."

"Oh. I was _sure _we could've finally cracked that mystery!"

Luna looked even _more _saddened. I figured I'd better hurry up.

"Look, you know how you used to always think you'd lost your belongings? And then you'd realise it was someone who was hiding them? Hiding them in unimaginable places to make you have to struggle to search for them?"

"Yes?" she voiced quietly.

I sighed. "That someone was _me._"

Hermione covered her mouth with her hand. Luna simply stared at me.

"I was really stupid! I was hideous, I _know. _ I had a lot of pressure, and I know that's no excuse, and I really feel awful now about it! I did it once because you left your book bag in the library and I couldn't resist and then everyone in Slytherin thought it was _really _hilarious… and so I kept doing it, and people started helping me, and—it got out of hand, but I never meant it to and… I'm sorry."

There was a very long bit of silence.

"_Really_?" Luna questioned timidly. "All those times? I- I thought I'd _never _solve _that _mystery. It made it all even worse, you know? But now that I have a face, and a reason—" her lip quivered—"it doesn't seem so _mean_." Tears started rolling down her face.

"Oh, _Luna," _Hermione said.

"I'm _really sorry_," I told her softly.

"**Draco Malfoy, you are my _hero_**_!" _Luna squealed, and with tears still rolling down my face, she engulfed me in a huge hug. "Thank you, thank you, thank you! Yay!" she sang, and got up, dancing away as though wearing Mexican clogs.

I was unable to move. _How can someone who's been terrorized all her life be so cheery?_

Hermione cleared her throat. "It was you all that time? Well, that certainly explains why Luna was left alone nearly all seventh year."

"I said I was sorry! I really am! You have to admit it was—"

"Really big of you to finally come clean? Yeah, I think it was."

"You do?"

"Yes, but what you did to her is still fairly disgusting. I really didn't want this to be the thing you admitted, but… it was certainly a big surprise."

"It wasn't supposed to be! And aren't you glad I did?"

"Draco Malfoy, I _don't _know what to think about you! On one hand, you're making progress, but I just don't know how you could _live _with yourself!"

"Well, I _was _pretty damned unhappy!" I declared.

"Good! You made the rest of us suffer enough!"

"**What's it going to take for you to forgive me**?"

"Something _amazingly fantastic."_

_Bang._

The front door slammed against the wall.

Hermione and I whipped around.

"Sorry, all, for being so late! Except it really should be _Ginvera _who's apologizing!"

_Curses!_

Ron Weasley had just entered the party!

"Good _Godric, _Ron, stop being so melodramatic!" Ginny shot back, stepping in, her face very red. It was apparent they had been fighting. And when Ron stepped in, I saw exactly why.

His hair was very , very ugly.

Or should I say, his _lack _of hair.

Hermione took one look and burst into laughter.

"See?" Ron screamed. "It's _awful. _You _aren't _Tonks. You _can't do hair, Ginny!"_

"You're ungrateful!" she snapped. "I like it! Hermione likes it, too!"

"Ha ha ha ha—yeah, it's really great—hah ha haaaa," Hermione hooted hysterically, rocking back and forth.

Ron made a face. "_Really funny, Hermione." _

"All right, Ron?" Neville hollered from the hallway, holding Luna's hand.

"**Not rea-**" his expression brightened. "Since when?" he asked of Hermione in a whisper.

"Just tonight. They officially got back together," she returned, still letting out random giggles at his hair.

He looked back at Neville. "I'm **excellent, Neville. **Thanks. Thanks a lot!" He sat down right between Hermione and I—rude dog—and greeted me with an enthusiastic clap on the shoulder.

I nodded weakly. _So close. So close and I had messed it up. Again._

"Ugh, Ginny!" Ron snarled. "Not only is the haircut a horror, but I'm _covered _in my own hair! It's _disgusting_!"

"Yes, it is," Hermione agreed.

As they began arguing, I suddenly got a very brilliant, yet terrible idea. It had absolutely nothing to do with trust.

In fact, it was the opposite.

But, hey!

I needed anything to get Hermione's affection.

I was a _desperate _man.

And I was still Draconus Lucifer Malfoy.

Making certain I was inconspicuous, I leaned over and plucked one small, red hair from Ron's shoulder.


	26. Illegal Activity

**AN: **Happy New Year, all! Hope you enjoy the new installment!

**Chapter 26 **

_Dear Professor Snape, _

_How are you? Have you found love as of yet? I heard you were finally happy and I figured that some long-due sexual activity might have something to do with it, but if I'm wrong, I won't be incredibly surprised. _

_I am writing to you not only to see what has been going on in your so-called life, but also to inquire about Polyjuice Potion. My father gave away all of our darker spell books when the Ministry was conducting raids, so now I've no basis for study. _

_Do you think you could help me? _

_Your favourite student!, _

_Draco Malfoy _

I stared at the now-finished letter to my ex-professor. It was polite, sensitive, and optimistic, but I wasn't sure that Snape would divulge details to me simply because I was out of school and no longer a threat to the world. Besides, Snape wasn't really who I _needed _helping out OSPG. I needed someone who knew a lot about worming his way through rules, and Snape was kind of the opposite. Father always complained about "Snape the Snoop!" and I really didn't need a teacher in my private life, no matter how much respect I had for him.

Hmm.. I stroked my chin thoughtfully and went through the list of people I knew who were demented, psychotic, willing to break rules, and wouldn't mind me impersonating Ron Weasley to win a woman's affection.

Of course, all signs pointed to the Weasley twins.

**IN JORDAN AND SONS. **

"Well, lookie here!" Fred-or-George proclaimed from a yellow ladder, in the midst of hanging a potted plant. "It's wee Malfoy! Thought we'd scared you off forever, you silly sod!" he declared, and jumped back down to the floor, landing on his shoulder. "Oof!"

"Are you… all _right_?" I inquired blandly, staring at the heap of Weasley before me.

"Of course. I'm indestructible," he said cheerfully, and hopped off the floor, brushing his sleeves. "Now, how can I help you?"

"Well…" I searched his hand for the ring.

"I'm Fred," he told me, upon seeing my eye movements.

"Thanks, George," I replied.

George grinned. "Well _done. _Fancy flowers, do you? Who are you chasing this week, Malfoy? Me brother Ron said you were a party crasher two nights ago. Said you were acting… _scary._"

Fred popped up from behind a Poisonous Pinenut Pine tree. "Creeping out the Gryffies, were you?"

"Hullo, Fred. No, actually, it was—_he said I was scary?" _

George nodded. "But more along the lines of it was scary you were being so nice. What's the matter, Malfoy? Lost your anger? Where's your angst?"

"I—"

"Oh, George, he's blushing. The poor dear!" Fred exclaimed, sighing.

"Actually, I haven't anger, although I _do _require the assistance of two people who don't mind illegal activity."

The twins made eye contact and grinned.

"Ah, you've come to the right place, Malfoy!" George said in an Irish brogue.

"Let us go to the back room," Fred exclaimed, equally Irish now," and you shall tell us everything, lad."

**A HALF AN HOUR LATER. **

"So you have a thing for Hermione?"

"Yeah, that's what I got out of it, too, George."

"And you don't know how to woo her?"

"And Ron's taking away your fire!"

"So you need some Polyjuice—"

"--To be Ron—"

"To get Hermione?"

"So you can reform!"

Twins are very befuddling. I stared, slack-jawed. "Yes, er—right!"

George lowered his glance. "You know, Malfoy, he's our little brother, and to ask _us _to hide him while you steal his girlfriend is a sick idea, a stupid one, really—"

Fred nodded," and we should tell Mum and Dad and the authorities—"

My eyes widened.

"And Aunt Tessie."

"Right, and the kids next door and your dad and everyone_ else_ at the mental hospital—"

"But we won't."

"Y-you _won't_?" I sputtered,"Oh-oh, _good_!"

"Fact is, Draco, we like your plan. It's simple yet dark and very unfair."

"We like it," concurred Fred.

"Fact is, we've been brewing Polyjuice ourselves for certain purposes—"

"—Of the most secret kind—"

"But we'd be glad to share some with you so you can do it tonight!"

_"Tonight?" _

Fred and George nodded simultaneously. "Just give us the hair."

I reached into my pocket and pulled out a thin vial with one red hair inside of it.

"Very professional, Malfoy."

They exchanged glances.

"Only thing is," said George," one of us will have to be on Ronald Duty."

"Well, I have a date with Angelina."

"_Oi!" _protested George. "You _owe _me! I want to go this time!"

They glared heavily at one another.

_"All right,_" snapped Fred," but don't expect she'll be impressed. Last time she complained you were too-"

"Ahem," I interrupted. "Although your double-sex life sounds very exciting…"

"R_iiight_," George nodded. "I'll finish brewing the Polyjuice. Fred, you entice Ronald with some home-cooked meatloaf, and Malfoy, you get to work on asking Hermione out. As Ron. Good luck with that."

_'What have I gotten myself into?' _I thought gravely.


	27. The Day Ron Went Postal Part Two

**AN: Look. Look here! **It _wasn't _supposed to go this way! I was going to be play the nice guy and let this thing go a certain way, but then a certain reviewer (whose comment I _can't _find! Otherwise I'd totally mention them!) brought up a certain _plot bunny _that I had shoved to the back of my mind—and it got free and!…

Just… read and review.

* * *

**Chapter 27**

JORDAN AND SONS

The first part was easy. I'd always been quite smart at lies, and so I wrote up a very sincere note from Ron to Hermione. George watched from a corner, with a huge grin.

"I think I've got it," I said, smirking at my genius nature, and George immediately came to my side and snapped the letter out of my hands.

"Dear Hermie," he read loudly, his eyes a gooey, blinking show. "I love you so very much, so much in fact that I would like to meet you for dinner at this very expensive restaurant I know of, my treat. It's called Goreson's Palace, and it's in Knockturn Alley, of course! Meet me there at six PM sharp. Don't be late. And look sexy! Love, Ronald, your darling."

George was silent for a moment, and then fell to the floor, screaming with laughter and beating his fists into the carpet.

I sneered proudly. "That good, huh?"

George snorted something indistinguishable.

"_What?"_

"Crikey!" he wailed. "Have you—haha—ever even-_bahahaha-**met—**_teeheehee _Ron?_"

" I don't get your meaning," I snapped.

"You are the _thickest _of the _thick! Knockturn Alley? Darling? _Oh, this is wonderful, so _stupid."_

I was beginning to feel exceptionally angry. "**What do you _mean?_**_ Why? It's perfect!?"_

"For one, Ron would _never _say 'Hermie', unless he wanted to get stabbed in the face with a butter knife. Secondly, Ron doesn't _ever _want to go to expensive restaurants, even now! He's the cheapest prat there is! He would _also _never allow someone to think he'd pay—he always waits about three hours before paying a bill, and he makes a _big _deal out of how mad he is about it! And _Knockturn Alley, _honestly, did your Mum kick you the head before you came here?"

"Not that I can recall, but…"

"Draco, Draco, Draco. I would've thought that you could have at least afforded _acting _lessons!"

I sighed. "That bad?"

"Oh, _worse_. Let me do the job, and Hermione will think it's him for certain. Don't worry at all, mate, I did this before with Percy and Penelope and it worked like magic."

I wanted badly to ask _what _he'd written to Penelope, but I figured I'd be seeing that dear Prefect soon enough. "Right. So, you think this will wo—"

He shooed me away with a fling of his hand, all ready working on a devious note.

A couple minutes later, a loud, booming shout was heard from the back room. Much scuffling came, and it sounded like a thirty-billion ton beast was attempting to sidle up a wall.

George and I ran back to see what in Salazaar's name was happening.

Fred had emerged from the back alley, and was gripping what appeared to be a tall, thin _live _mummy that was attempting to scratch his eyes out.

"**What the dickens _is _that?"** I screamed over the creature's protests.

"It's—" panted Fred—"Not as bad as it _looks!"_

The creature stumbled blindly to the floor and lay, comatose, in a little curled up ball.

Fred smiled and prodded the thing with his toe. "Good boy. Good Ronald."

"_That's RON?" _I burst out. "_What are you doing, taking him captive?"_

"When we do things—" Fred began—

--"We really _do _them," George ended.

Ron made a pathetic groaning noise. "_I 'ate too, Maldoy," _he said grumpily from underneath his prison of very thick glop, paper and ropes.

"Oi, Ronnie-boy! How does this sound?" George picked up the letter he'd just been perfecting and recited:

"Hermione!" barked George, in a _very _convincing Ron-accent. "Do **you still have time for me or not**? If you're not out with _Neville, that toad loving sod, _or at some pansy bar, I want to meet you for dinner in Diagon at seven o'clock sharp, at Remly's Squire and you better eat before you come! No prime rib! Sincerely, your boyfriend, the one and only, Ron."

"'_hat's da big idea?" _Ron exclaimed thickly.

"Never you mind, Ron, did it sound like you? _Did it?" _George asked excitedly.

"_Mumosssphhh!" _shouted Ron, enraged.

"That means _yes _in idiot language!" Fred nodded brightly. A small owl fluttered in the room, seized the letter and was off.

Ron rolled across the floor in an agitated fashion and tried to bite our ankles.

"Ouch! Down, brother, down!" Fred tsked, and hopped onto an overturned flower pot to avoid Ron's gnashing teeth.

"'_hat are oo all up to?" _Ron wanted to know, trying to stand up and failing about three times. _"'hy are oo writing Hermione? 'hy Maldoy here, too?"_

"Smashing Viktor Krum imitation, Ron, but the contest was ages ago!" George declared. "Now, you're going to stay here tonight with Frederick, and be a nice prisoner. It will only be about a day!"

Ron 'mumped' again, and somehow managed to get his head out of the paper mache. He looked around like a mole who had never seen light and focused on me. "_I KNEW YOU WERE UP TO SOMETHING!"_

"It's not like that, Weasley! It's nothing too horrible!" I coaxed, backing up against the wall.

"**What's your game, Malfoy?**" Mummy-Ron bellowed, and grasped my feet in an iron hold.

I felt myself being pulled to the floor. _"Nooo!"_

"My bet's on the swamp monster!" Fred stated with a shrug.

Suddenly, a hand reached through the madness and grabbed me by my collar, saving me from the very postal Ron. A _manicured _hand.

"_Ooh, _I remember you!" I smiled snidely, having all ready fully recovered.

"Shut up, blondie," Zoe, Lee and Lone's good-looking cousin, snapped, and hit me lightly across the face. "Now tell me why a canvas bag is attacking Malfoy!" she demanded, staring at Fred and George with her hands on her hips.

"_I'm not a canvas bag!" _whined Ron.

"He's not a canvas bag!" Fred echoed. "He's actually our little brother!"

"_Lit'le _brother?" Zoe asked. "As in _Ron, _the whiney one?"

"'S right," Fred nodded.

Zoe smiled and patted Ron with her heel. "Doesn't look so lit'le," she said slyly.

"Why must everyone keep touching me with their feet?!" Ron wanted to know, rolling around as if to bite her until he noticed it was not his brothers this time. "Oh."

"_It's an angry redheaded boy in a sheet!" _Zoe exclaimed, as though this were the most remarkable thing she'd seen in her life.

"They're holding me captive," Ron said, trying to sit up now and look mature. "I'm not sure why, yet, but it has to do with _Draco Malfoy who tried to kill people."_

"Says Mister-I-Murder-Those-Who-Touch-My-Toast!" George hooted.

"_Percy knew that was my piece of toast! He knew he was being foul!"_

I shrugged at Zoe. Weasley family memories: You had to be there.

George stepped around Ron. "Zoe, all we're doing is having a bit of harmless fun so that Malfoy here can get… how do you say? Oh. _Laid. _Yeah, I think _laid _is the right word."

"**George**!" I declared.

But Zoe laughed. "And you're keeping Ron _captive _because of that?"

I reddened. "_I'm NOT GAY!"_

Ron started to flip around wildly on the floor. "_ME EITHER!"_

"At least they have _something _in common," Fred exclaimed.

"Defensive little buggers!" nodded Zoe.

Bonking itself against the wall, the little owl appeared once more.

"Hermione! Blimey—a new record!" George announced, and read the note: _"Ronald: How rude of you to insult Neville AND insist I eat before our date in ONE letter! Honestly, you are the absolute WORST."_

Fred and I looked at each other worriedly.

"Is she coming?" I asked.

"Yeah, she really didn't _agree _to it—"

Ron sighed. "I don't know _what _you're planning, but it's very obvious that she's going to show up. The key words were _our date._"

"Right-o, Ron!" George said, looking proud. "Well, Draco, it is six o'clock and you really should be _getting ready._ We've got—" he coughed mysteriously—"_what you need _in the broom closet."

"Oh _no, _is it going to be like in fourth year when you both were selling Pick-Me-Up-Poxy sticks in the bathroom?" Ron wanted to know.

"Hush, strange one!" George turned back to me. "So, you'd better get changing. _Meanwhile, _Fred, you have to keep Ron stabilized!"

Suddenly, Fred and George looked at each other in a way that screamed **LIGHTBULB.**

"Zoe? You doing anything tonight besides the bookkeeping?" Fred asked slowly.

"_No, _why?"

"Well, George and I _both _need to see Angelina tonight and we need someone to—"

"Keep watch over the wee redhead in the canvas bag? I'll do it. I have nothing better to do!" Zoe told them plainly.

Ron looked very confused.

"**YES**!" Fred and George whooped in unison, and I really didn't want to imagine the plans they had for tonight.

"Come on, Malfoy," George beckoned. "I'll help you, since it's your first time on the juice."

"And _I'll _go first," Fred grinned, heading out.

"Yeah, **good idea**, then she'll be _unsatisfied and will need ME, you ass!" _

"What? What was that? Sounded like a mish mash to me!"

I watched the twins, confused.

Zoe looked malicious.

Ron cried into his burlap outfit.

**-in broom closet-**

"Right. Now, you've got to drink this entire flask, and get as quickly as you can to Diagon. I'm guessing you'll have three good hours before you should get _out _of Hermione's sight."

"Thanks, George," I said honestly. "This has really been quite a big help."

"What can I say, you malicious little minx? You're the brother we never had. Now, _drink! Drink! _I'm gettin' all teary eyed!" he joked, with a shove, handing me the Polyjuice Potion.

"I can't believe I'm doing this."

"Uh-oh. Polyjuice Cold Feet. Happens all the time. I'm sure you'll enjoy some of Ron's perks, though…"

"Which _are?"_

"Tendency to turn so red even his family can't tell him apart from a giant crab!"

I made a face. "Oh well. It's only three hours. What can happen? As long as I can get Hermione, I'll be happy. Cheers."

"Cheers, Malfoy."

With that, I took a long swig of the potion.

I'm not mincing words: It is _the _most **awful **taste I've ever had in my mouth, and yes! That includes when Goyle made pancakes. It feels like glob, and has the consistency of slop, with an aftertaste of nasty Bertie Botts flavours all mashed together.

Finally, it was over, and a new sensation took hold of my body, as though I were quaking, but only on the inside.

I felt myself growing shorter, my hips becoming more pronounced and my chest _changing. _

But what scared me the most was when I felt a change occurring _down there._

George was staring at me with a look between horror and hilarity as I went through my transformation.

"Bloody _freakin' _Hell," he gaped.

"Am I Ron?" I questioned, my voice an octave higher than I was used to. My shirt was rather tight.

"No."

"_Who am I?" _I shrieked. "_Who am I, damn it?"_

"Let's just say you're the _sister we all ready have."_

George broke down then, and laughed until tears rolled down his face.

"I'm… oh, _shit, no! I'm Ginny? **I'M GINNY!"**_ I searched around violently for some sort of mirror, and threw open the closet door in a rage.

I ran to the back conservatory, to the glass door, and took in my reflection.

_I WAS GINNY WEASLEY._

_I WAS A FEMALE. A GIRL. _

Inadvertently, I grabbed "my" breasts in interest.

"Oi! Those are my little sister's!" George warned, coming up behind me. "I should've figured something like this would happen. First ferrets, now this!"

"It _isn't _my fault! I figured since Ginny cut Ron's hair, this hair would be _Ron's!"_

"First rule of Polyjuice: Never assume!"

"I feel _raped. _My manhood has been _stolen."_

"Aw, **buck** up, Draco! Honestly! I was a girl once and it's not that bad!"

We looked at each other strangely.

"Right, that was a weird way to put it," George admitted," but the fact is, you're my sister and you will be for three hours, and it might be better to show up as Ginny because you and Hermione have this sort of _womanly _understanding."

"I'm confused."

"Well, right now, you look like my sister lost a fight in Borgin and Burkes, so we need to get you some new clothes."

**--**

Zoe was very agreeable, and let me trade clothes with her for the night, though she did have to put a silencing spell on herself so her laughter wouldn't make Ron (still captive in the back room) wonder what was going on.

Zoe's clothes gave the Ginny!Me a very _'Don't mess in my business' _type of look, a dark blue jean jacket, black tank top and baggy pants.

"Now, you have to flirt with every bloke you see!" George instructed. "And giggle a lot. If someone mentions the word _diary, _flip out."

I sighed.

"Go, my little prodigy! The world is counting on your success!"

(Weasleys upset me.)


	28. WWGD

**AN: **You've been waiting. I've been waiting. It's time.

**

* * *

**

**Chapter Twenty-Eight: WWGD?

* * *

**

**6:53 pm. ON "MY" WAY TO "MY" NOT-SO-DATE-ANYMORE WITH HERMIONE. "I" HATE "MY" LIFE.**

Let me tell you something: it is _hard _to walk like a woman! My cool, keen swagger _doesn't work! It doesn't cut it! _I had to practically _walk on tiptoe and swing my ass just to stay upright! _I hate having _curves, I hate having creepy old toothless men smooch at me!_

How _disturbing._

_AND BOOBS. _Boobs! I HAD BOOBS. I wasn't sure whether to be excited or disgusted. (Not that Ginny's are big or anything, I'd never realized how unreasonably sporty they were until they were affixed to me.)

I shivered, despite how unreasonably nice it was outside, and headed toward my destination.

"Oi, sweetheart!" a voice cooed.

I turned around.

"Ginerva? That you?" asked a short man with a beaming, stupid smile.

"Michael Corner?" I asked, squinting. Oh good Tom Riddle and His Python Prophets. How I hated that asshole. Back in school, he used to start fights during mealtimes with mashed potatoes and oatmeal.

"Yeah, it's me. Looking good, darling."

"Can't say the same for you," I shrugged. It was _true. _I'm sorry, but like George said, I haven't taken acting skills! I am a heterosexual _**man**_ and I can still tell who's ugly and who isn't. And Michael Corner was definitely _not _someone Ginny Weasley should be accosted by!

He looked puzzled. "Look, I know the break-up was hard on you—"

"No it wasn't!" I retorted.

Corner made a face. "Since I dropped out of Hogwarts, I've had a lot of new realizations. I was immature—"

"You're telling me! Stupid, too!"

"I can make it up to you!" he declared, almost angrily. "What do you say me and you just spring over to the nearest pub and—"

I folded my arms. "You're an ugly, mindless bastard. Is your father a rhino? Is your mother a Muggle? Your type makes me sick. How did you _ever _get that hot Asian?"

"_Huh?_ Who, Cho? _Hot Asian? _Ginny, what are you talking about?"

"Oh, come on, Corner, everyone thought you'd drugged Chang when you started dating her. I mean, she's a prize, mate. You're kind of… little and weird," I shrugged.

Corner was in shock. "You _dyke. _You _foul bitch_!" he spat.

"**Ginny Weasley is neither a dyke, nor a bitch**," I announced hotly, and then did something only for the sake of staying in character: I kneed Michael Corner directly in the groin and watched him crumple to the dirt.

(Now, I know this is a very un-brotherly thing to do, and men will criticize me for the rest of my life, but Michael Corner used to have food fights with _mashed potatoes and oatmeal! And that is just plain stupid._)

Percy's quip had come true: Ginvera Weasley was now the Secret Weapon.

I smiled to myself. "What would Ginny do?" I asked, then stepped over Michael Corner and continued on down the lane.

"Ginny? Gin?"

I kept walking, and then when the yelling repeated, I looked around, wondering where Ron's sister was.

"**GIN-NY!"** Someone grabbed my shoulder.

I whipped around. "Oh! Hello, _Hermione!" _(Silly me, I forgot I was being someone else.)

"What's your problem? I've been calling you forever!" Hermione grinned, looking gorgeous. Completely gorgeous. It seemed she dressed up, in a navy blue sweater, fitting skirt and hoes. Matching heels were on her feet, and her hair was pulled back.

I must've stared for more than what is deemed appropriate, because she looked at me in an odd way.

"Uh—" I struggled. "You look _very—uhm—_cuuuute!" I exclaimed, drawing out the last word in a high tone of voice.

"Ginny, are you okay?" Hermione asked softly.

"Yes! I'm fine!" I snapped. "Are _you_?"

It was about then that I realized I'd hardly hung out with Ginny Weasley. At _all. _This made it very difficult to _be _her. For all I knew, she was in love with Michael Corner and she have _never _commented on Hermione looking nice, and she wore cobat boots, made obscure paintings of strangers she met on the streets, and had aspirations to be a waitress in Hoboken. _What would Ginny do, damn it?_

Hermione sighed. "Well, I'm actually looking for your brother."

"I know," I said rigidly.

"What do you mean you know?" Hermione narrowed those deep brown eyes in a sort of scary way.

I hadn't thought clearly about this part.

"He—sort of sent me here," I told her slowly.

"Why?"

"Look! This is getting awkward! Why don't we just go into the restaurant, and have a nice dinner, and then when we're finished, we can go back to your place and you can tell me all about the blokes you like! And we can gab and take a shower together and--"

"_What?_" Hermione declared, wide-eyed.

"Er, except not the last." _Damn it._

"Are you telling me that _Ronald _**sent you here in his place?**"

"Not exactly."

"You don't need to protect him, Ginny. If he sent you here, then it's his fault but you _have_ to tell me!"

I looked from side to side. "I don't know, Hermione!"

"What don't you know?" She was getting impatient. She did not like Weird-Almost-Possessed-Ginny, I could tell!

"Hermione, Ron is nice, but he is _not _good with the ladies, like some guys are. In fact, he's terrible! So terrible that he sent me, his little sister, to come here and tell you that it just isn't going to work." I shrugged.

"_What _just isn't going to work?"

"He says uhm… that… you are too much of a feminist for his liking!"

"A _what?"_

"Er—he doesn't like the fact that you knit sweaters for elves."

Hermione stared. "Ginny, it's like you aren't even _yourself _today."

"I am myself! I am _very _Ginny! Can't you tell?"

"Not really. You seem like someone else I know, though I can't put my finger on it. Anyway, just tell me when Ron's getting here."

'He's not. He's a bit tied up at the moment, and he can't see you."

Hermione rolled her eyes. "This is a prank of the twins' isn't it? I'm supposed to think Ron's breaking up with me, and then, funny ha ha! Goodness, Ginny, how foul of you to play along!"

"Hermione," I pleaded. "It's not really a prank!"

"What?"

"Ron isn't coming."

"He isn't." Hermione looked abashed. "He isn't? Well, what's _wrong _with him? He doesn't _really _think I'm mad at him, does he?"

"Hermione, it's all right! Wouldn't you rather be _friends _with him?"

"Ginny, you were our _biggest _supporter! What happened to you? What happened to Ron? Why doesn't he tell _me? _How **stupid of him to send you! **I _knew _he was a prat, but this is just ridiculous, I can't believe he would stand me up and make you come in his place, don't you feel sick to your stomach about the whole ordeal, because I certainly do!"

"I—"

"Oh, you poor thing, him making you go and do this, and I know how shy you are, you must almost be in tears, well, two can play this game, even _three, _**come on, Ginny!"**

And with that, I was taken by the hand, and dragged far, far away, as Hermione bantered about all _sorts _of negative memories concerning Ronald.

**--**

I was forced to apparate (beginning to feel like a prisoner), and we appeared at Grimmault Place, Hermione and Percy's apartment. She dragged me through the door.

"Back so soon?" inquired Percy, who was sitting at the dining room table, reading the newspaper with some very large glasses. "Oh! 'Lo, Ginny!"

"Hi," I said dejectedly, and Percy raised his eyebrows.

"Hermione—" he began, as I tried to gesture at him to shut up.

"_Are you in on this, too, then? Come out with it, Percy? Are you all his secret spies? You were the whole time weren't you? __**WEREN'T YOU?"**_

Percy jumped out of his chair instantly. "Hermione! How could you accuse me of being Lord Voldemort's spy? You know I was forced to work for Crouch! You _know _that!" he screamed.

"Don't be _daft_, Percy! I wasn't talking about Voldemort! I mean _Ron!"_

"Yes, it's much more important than Voldemort!" I affirmed.

Hermione looked doubtful, but glad I was finally being supportive.

"Ron's spy? What in the Shrieking Shack are you talking about?"

"You knew Ron was going to break up with me!"

Percy's face softened. "_What? _No—I didn't—Hermione, I'm not _his _spy. I had no idea. When-?"

Hermione looked deadly. "Just an hour ago. He sent _Ginny _to do it for him."

"I'm always the _last _in this family to know things!" Percy snapped. "Where _is _Ron? I'll shake some sense into him!"

(Oh no. I think I started the Weasley Family Ruckus.)

"Percy, violence isn't the key idea here—"

"Oh, _believe _me, I dabble in doings so much more malicious than violence," Percy returned, and Hermione nodded.

It was apparent then why Hermione and Percy had roomed together. They were equally matched in Bookish Insanity.

"Okay, I think we need to be calm," I said, putting up my hands. (If Ron was murdered, I did not want Draco _or _Ginny to be blamed. But mostly Draco, of course.)

"Since when? Since when have you been calm about something?" Hermione snapped.

I opened my eyes very wide. "I—derno—I…" All of a sudden, I began to jump up and down. "Ron's evil! It's all his fault! **ALL HIS FAULT!"**

"Women! Please!" Percy declared. "Ron must be feeling insecure. He loves you, Hermione. Have you asked him about it?"

"Not a good idea!" I said quickly. "Let him wait! Make him feel bad!"

"Percy's right, Gin. Maybe Ron just had cold feet. He _does _have his mood swings," Hermione stated. "It's the logical thing to do."

"**No, it isn't**!" I cried out. "Ron doesn't deserve you, Hermione!"

Percy stared at Ginny!me in silence.

Hermione gawked. "Well, thank you, I think, but this just really doesn't seem like _Ron—"_

"Malfoy hasn't spoken to you, has he Ginny?" Percy asked, observing one of his nails very casually.

I blinked. "Malfoy? Who's Malfoy?"

"Why would Malfoy be speaking to Ginny?" Hermione wanted to know.

"Yeah. Why?" I asked snappishly, shooting a dagger glare at Percy.

"No reason," Percy shrugged, but narrowed his eyes at me strangely. "You know, an unrelated matter, but Hermione, you should just _talk _to Ron. At least _owl _him."

"All right," she said firmly. "I will."

**-One Hour Later-**

"He's _never _taken this long, save for the time he fell into the bathtub and couldn't get free."

"What a stupid prat," I said. I was beginning to think I needed to get out of there before something insane happened.

"Most definitely," Hermione nodded.

'_Funny. When I'm Draco, I can't insult anyone, or else everyone gets offended… But as Ginny…' _There were high points, I suppose.

Percy was bored with the whole bashing-of-Ron ordeal by now and was attempting to be polite. And in Percy's world, this meant making a pot of tea and serving biscuits. "Hermione, I am _certain _Ron is off somewhere, and he's just not getting your mail! He _does _leave the house."

"Not really," scoffed Hermione. 'Well, maybe to get the newspaper. I just don't understand," she muttered to herself.

"_Ginny," _Percy whispered into my ear," _create some sort of distraction."_

"_Huh?"_

"_Yeah, you're good at that."_

Hermione turned around. "Are you whispering about me?"

"No!" Percy snapped insistently, and stared at me.

'_What? A distraction?'_

Percy cleared his throat, giving Ginny!me the evil eye. "So, Ginny told me that the other day, she saw Dean Thomas."

"Oh, really?" Hermione asked. "How was he, Gin?"

"Erm—good, really good. He's…" I struggled. _'Ginny. Dean? Wasn't Dean in my year? Wasn't he stupid? I can't place him. Did Ginny even know him?' _"He's… really good," I affirmed, nodding brightly. "He sends you his best, of course."

"Me?" Hermione asked. "What did he say?"

"Oh, you know. Things!" I shrugged, blushing. "You know, he was on hols with his Dad and he was just passing through—"

Hermione looked bewildered. "His _dad?"_

"Yes," I nodded, with a smile. "Nice fellow, really."

"Ginny. Are you _sure?" _

"Why!?"

"Well, if I remember clearly," Hermione continued, looking more than a little concerned," Dean's father is _dead."_

"Ohhhhhh," I said quietly, staring at both of them in horror. "Well. It's nice, isn't it, that he came back alive!"

Hermione and Percy made eye contact.

"You didn't mention all this the other day," Percy said. "Undead fathers and all, I would have asked you more questions." He laughed in a discomforted fashion. "But, anyhow, tell Hermione what Dean asked you." He grinned at Hermione. "Mum'd really be furious if she knew!"

I bit my lip. "Oh _that." __'What could it be? What would he ask? Mrs. Weasley, think, THINK! What would set her off?' _

"Oh, come out with it!" Hermione declared. "I promise I won't tell!"

'_What do girls get excited about? What would Dean ask Ginny to do that's exciting and would make Mrs. Weasley mad?'_

I let out a sigh. "All right, if you _need _to know so badly! He… he asked me to marry him."

Percy dropped his teacup and it shattered on the floor. **"HE DID WHAT?"**

Hermione flicked her wand calmly at the floor, cleaning up the glass. "Percy, don't get so _excited. _Now, Ginny, what exactly did he say? And you're really not considering it, are you?"

But Percy was in a state of unrecoverable brother fury. He was reddening by the second. **"HE DID WHAT? YOU DIDN'T MENTION—HE—I SWEAR—"**

"PERCY! STOP!" I shrieked madly. "It's not that important!"

"**IT BLOODY WELL IS IMPORTANT, GINERVA MALLORY, AND—"**

"Get your_ Mum _furious, you said?" Hermione asked lightly. "Percy, this is better to be dealt with in a calm manner. Now, Ginny, what did you say?"

"I… er… I said nothing of course—"

"**YOU BETTER HAVE! AND DON'T SPEAK TO HIM!" **Percy shouted. **"EVER!" **He pounded his fist on the couch. "Blast him! And to think he invited you to have a holiday this summer, too, now you're _really _not going!"

I opened my mouth in surprise. "That was--? It--?"

"Can't believe you didn't fill me it," Percy declared, "I swear to Godric, my blood pressure's naught gone up so high in ages—"

Hermione shrugged. "She's growing up, and Dean _did _fancy her. You have to give yourself _time, _Ginny, it's all right. When the time comes, you can have a meaningful adult relationship and—" she stopped talking. "Well, _look _at _me. _Giving relationship advice, and my boyfriend's gone and dumped me, that's _rich." _She sighed and shook her head.

"Hermione—" Percy began, but at that moment, a black owl came rushing into the room through the fireplace.

"Post!" she cheered, but stared as the bird dropped a letter in _my_ lap. "Oh… it's for you," she said glumly, and I stared curiously at it. Not a second later, a large snowy owl sailed in through the kitchen window with a letter for _her._ "That's odd!" she declared, but worked on opening hers.

On my envelope were words in very tiny handwriting that read: SAY YOU HAVE TO GO TO BATHROOM! READ!

"Eh—I'll be right back!" I said, and jumped up, almost running into the wall. I looked down the hallway—there were four doors. I opened the first one and was dismayed to find what appeared to be a study. "Uhm—sorry, but… the bathroom…?" I questioned.

Percy and Hermione looked at me, a bit disturbed.

"Gin—" Hermione said, worriedly. "It's the second door to the left!"

"Right!" I nodded, and ran in at once. I tore open the letter.

_How's it going, chap?_

_Enjoying those feminine assets?_

_Hope you've convinced Hermiekins because you've got exactly ten minutes before the potion wears off._

_Thought we'd warn you!_

_(Oh, and you can thank us when you get back.)_

_Love,_

_Gred. Forge. Agent Zoe. And Won Won, though disagreeably!_

I gave a sigh at once. I was leaving. No more awkward stuttering and talk of Dean and his father—I hoped that would turn out not being too weird for everyone, I mean, mistakes happen, right?

But ten minutes. I hadn't even had time to… well…

I gave a smarmy smirk.

_Fully inspect. _

It would have to be quick. I faced the mirror. Ginny was good-looking, not terribly so, but still, it was worth a look. I slowly pulled my top off over my head and stared at her chest. I slowly ran my fingers over the crease in her cleavage. Next, I made to unhook my jeans—

"Decent?" came Percy's voice from the door.

"NO!" I said instantly, and whipped around, quickly trying to put my shirt back on.

The door swung open, and Percy walked in at once, locking it with a snap behind him. "Thought not," he said, with a look of contempt.

"This is inappropriate, twenty times over!" I said in a screech, trying to get my shirt on, but it was stuck over my elbows.

"HA!" he snorted, "you're telling _me!" _He wrenched the shirt over me and shook his head, lowering his voice. "_Malfoy, honestly, you've stooped lower than low!"_

"How did you know!?" I exclaimed.

"Oh, there were certain clues, I suppose. Dean, your reactions to everything, not knowing where the bathroom is, I mean, my sister never LEAVES the bathroom! She's always in here ANGSTING!" he fired back.

"Well, look here, it wasn't really my idea, it was _your _brothers!"

Percy made a face, something I couldn't interpret. "They told you to do this?"

"Basically, yeah. It was a good idea!" I said with a shrug.

"Yes and _no," _he said bitterly," you've broken at least three ministry laws, not to mention my little sister is _underage _and you were probably just groping her!"

"ME! I WAS GROPING ME!" I shouted.

"What-_ever," _Percy spat. "The point is, you're a nasty little weasel, bad but brilliant, and Hermione's just not going to go for it! I mean, Polyjuice Potion, Ron breaking up with her? You've made this game a very dirty one, and I'm sorry I _ever _played it."

"Percy, it's not like that—"

"TELL ME HOW IT'S LIKE!"

"I really want to date her! And I didn't mean to become your sister—I was supposed to be Ron, but I got the wrong _hair! _She cut his _hair _and I didn't want to be a woman, but I had _breasts, _and I only wanted to feel them, I don't see what's wrong with it, it wasn't Ron's _hair!" _I said dejectedly.

Percy tried to hold back a grin. "You were trying to impersonate Ron and ending up being Ginny? Why, that's _almost _humorous."

"ALMOST," I said bitterly.

"Look Malfoy, I guess I admire your lack of self control. It's something I've never had, and you're so devoted to poor Hermione that I suppose I believe your efforts should be rewarded, but…" He shook his head. "Polyjuice Potion isn't fair. Promise me you'll never use it again?" He stuck out a hand.

I shook it. "I think I can promise that. I _think."_

"Oh, you're just the most _adorable _wee sister," Percy said sappily, and hugged me around the shoulder.

"UGH! I have to get going, but thanks… for understanding, I guess."

"You're _very _welcome," Percy smiled.

We walked out of the bathroom and stopped instantly.

Hermione was staring at her letter with a shocked expression.

"Well, what is it?" Percy asked. "What did Ron have to say for himself?"

"It wasn't Ron," she answered, looking up at us. "It was Draco Malfoy. He's invited me to have dinner with him tomorrow evening."

Percy made an effort not to look at me.

"Draco Malfoy?" I repeated. _'The twins?' _I wondered. _'Had they written it?'_

"Yes," Hermione nodded. "He says here if I accept, he'll pick me up and buy me dinner at Rolina's." She was baffled, clearly. "How does he know that's my favourite?"

Percy shrugged. "Don't know, Hermione. What do you think?"

She put the letter down firmly and smiled with a brave face. "I think I need to be adventurous. And Ron is everything _but_," she said boldly. "I'm going."

* * *


End file.
